


Maine Coon Grey

by Tea_is_Not_Them



Series: Mainecoon Grey (Catboy Jon) [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Body Horror, Catboy Jonathan Sims, Elias Bouchard Being a Bastard, F/M, Found Family, Grumpy Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Wears a Skirt, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist is Bad at Feelings, Leitner Books (The Magnus Archives), M/M, Mutual Pining, Other, Platonic Love is Just As Important As Romantic If Not More, Plot, The Hunt Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), Tooth Damage, like real bad, they love each other your honor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 63,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28554117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_is_Not_Them/pseuds/Tea_is_Not_Them
Summary: Jon wasn't even halfways through the book before he realized that it was a Leitner. Nothing was ever easy for him was it?
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Series: Mainecoon Grey (Catboy Jon) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101290
Comments: 520
Kudos: 290





	1. Reading Books

**Author's Note:**

> CATBOYYY JONNNN I have brain rot 
> 
> Socials:
> 
> Insta: tea_is_not_them  
> tiktok: teaisnotthem  
> Tumblr: tea-is-not-them

Jon should have known honestly. He had grown out of his habit of checking books before reading them, hell usually he only did that during work because the books there usually had to be contained to artifact storage. And yet here he is halfway through reading a seemingly indie published authors book, and finding out halfway through he felt drowsy. 

It wasn’t a normal drowsy either, which was what put him off after his reading. Jon flipped back to the front cover, and stared in horror at the nameplate hidden inside the dust sleeve. Shit. A leitner. Of course nothing was ever easy for him. Nothing!

He practically throws the book away --with a noise of terror that was not dignified, which he will never admit to anyone. Immediately he starts checking over himself, running his hands through his hair for any unseen injuries, and checking his temperature. Nothing other than the drowsiness so far, he thinks with a smidge of relief. All he felt was just tired relief, thankful.

Maybe he hadn’t read far enough in to actually cause enough harm? Something like doubt wriggles in the back of his mind, something that says the danger is yet to come, he had read to the middle of the book.

Either way he contains the book into a plastic bag and throws that into his work bag, before shoving on some shoes, and heading to the door to bring the seemingly harmless book under the scope of statements and further research. 

He didn’t make it out the door, instead suddenly feeling very very dizzy, and a nap sounded a lot better than a long walk to the oppressive basement he worked in. So Jon barely is able to kick off his shoes before he decides to sleep on the too small couch -- it was more like a loveseat than anything, but it will do, he thinks before slipping off into sleep.

\-------

Sasha is the first one into work, and that is a surprise to everyone involved. Which is her and the empty archive. Jon is usually there before her, because he either sleeps there or he just likes to get an early start on all of the work. She worries a little but then thinks better of it, going to drink her coffee in the breakroom to see if he had just slept through his alarm. 

Twenty minutes go by before the door to the archive’s opens to Martin who is now hooking his coat up on the coat rack. 

“Hey Martin! How was the train this morning?” She asks, as was their usual morning talks. Always something simple, before they both decide to bicker just for the fun of it. 

He hums, “It was good, got here early I think, anyone else showed up yet?”

Sasha looks over at the door and then deeper into the long maze of boxes and stacks, “No actually Tim and Jon aren’t here yet. So that means I am taking my iced coffee to my desk and you won't tell anyone?”

“Yeah you do what you want, I’m making some tea it’s bloody cold outside.” Martin snorts, and they share a bit of a laugh between coworkers, between friends, before they both do their own thing. 

Tim is five minutes late, but that’s not because he was slacking it was because of his alarm going off ‘too quietly’ or whatever he told Martin and Sasha to get them off his back. (Neither of them really cared if he was late.)

“So boss man isn't here yet-” His phone starts ringing, and Tim looks down at the caller ID with a shit-eating grin, “Speak of the devil. Yello boss, you’re on speaker.”

There was a noise at the other end that sounded a bit like a growl, which set them all into a layer of unease, before the regular grumble of Jon’s voice comes through the phone, “I won't be able to come in, for a little bit. I think I’ve taken sick. You all do whatever work you can and email or text me questions.”

Now that is weird, especially for Jon. Tim says this very clearly, “Are you alright, you must be literally dying to not be able to leave your flat. Do you need an ambulance, cuz you usually come to work even when you’re sick?”

On the other end Jon scoffs, before there was a hissing noise, “I will be fine, just leave me be.”

He hangs up on them after that, and Tim looks at the other two of them, before Sasha voices her thoughts, “So that was weird. Like proper weird right?”

“Oh yeah that was really spooky.” Tim replies, before looking at Martin. 

Martin looks at the two of them, “I think we should leave him be?”

“Martin you haven’t known Jon for as long as us, he hates not coming into work. I think he just got diagnosed with a terminal illness and is thinking about how to break it to us. Or maybe he's getting mauled and still had to call in.” Tim says, before Sasha smacks him on the back of the head and Martin knocks on wood. Always better to be safe than sorry. 

Sasha then hums, “maybe we check on him after work?”

The worry must have really shown in her voice, because Tim very dramatically sighed, “no we must make the most of our time left with him work! We can skip work and bring him soup, then come back.”

“Is that a good idea, he might get mad.” Martin says, very rational and not eager to get on Jon's nerves this early in the morning, especially if he was sick. 

Tim taps his foot a few times, looking a bit in thought, “We really should check on him though. I’m actually worried. You can bring him tea, we stop off at tescos in Sasha’s car get some soup and then boom. If he turns us away at least we see that he’s alive and not being impersonated at least.”

A few seconds of quiet pass before Martin sighs, “ Fine, only because Sasha is driving though.”

“That works for me! Lets go check on him.” Sasha says, before taking her keys and swinging them around by the chain.

\-------

It is fairly sunny now, rare in London as it is. Tim carries a can of soup with Martin and Sasha in tow, until they are all to way up to Jon’s flat. They knock on the door only to find there is no answer, not even an annoyed grumble from the door. Tim is about to call Jon and tell him to open the door before Sasha tries the knob to find that the door isn't even locked. For a paranoid man he is not good at remembering these important things. 

“Should we really be going- ok in we go I guess. That’s fine breaking and entering.” Martin mutters, following the other two. 

Tim drops the can where he stands in Jon’s sitting room. 

Jon is curled up on the couch, around a large stuffed fox. That isn’t the thing that had Tim, and subsequently the other two archival assistants in shock. 

On his head were two very real black and grey cat ears, twitching every once in a while to announce the fact that they are not a questionably realistic headband but actual live attached to the head of their boss ears. They also notice a long intensely fuzzy black and grey tail. It was slightly wrapped around Jon’s leg.

“You two see that. Right?” Sasha says, mouth slightly ajar. “Like i’m not just going crazy from my cousin showing me anime right?”

“No we all see it.” Martin says lowly, staring dumbfounded at the man on the couch. 

In his sleep clothes and laying on his couch under the pretense of sickness, their boss had cat ears and a tail. 

Said boss’s tail twitched slightly, flicking in a manner that shows that they were not being as quiet as they thought they were. Slowly Jon yawns, way too wide for his face and shakes his head as if to clear the sleep from his eyes. And then he sees the three of them standing there and his eyes are flitting to each of their faces. 

Then his face sets in fake annoyance, “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing with cat ears and a tail!” Tim says back. Jon blinks a few times, before the real worry set into his face. He actually looked slightly scared. 

Martin has the decency to close the door, before Sasha is literally flinging herself onto the couch to interrogate the poor man. He lets out a noise of confusion and startled. The fox he was holding fell to the floor, and now that they look at it, it looks old as if from childhood and a bit beat up but well loved. 

“What happened?” Martin blurts out, before Jon is glaring at the three of them.

“What part of leave me be do you not understand.” His vehemence is very much real, but it was hiding something else. 

Sasha stared at him for a second, “You literally never call into work except that one time we found you passed out from the flu that you let get too bad.”

Jon crosses his arms, and finally lets go of his glare, “Yes I guess i can see why you were worried.”

Tim and Martin stare for a second before Tim joins in, sitting on the floor like a child waiting for a bedtime story. Martin just stands there, while Jon finally tells them the story. 

He had woken up in the middle of the night, after reading the leitner, and found that some things were changing. His teeth hurt, his hands hurt, and now that they looked at it his teeth and nails had changed and gotten slightly sharper. Much like that of a cats but still easy to explain away as little details they never notice. 

“It was a book about something but… Now that I look at it I can’t even remember what it was about, but I think that It was supposed to do something even worse, but I stopped reading before any transformation could fully take form. So now I look like this.” He gestures lamely down at himself.

Martin nodded, “Where is the book now?”

“In my work bag.” He sighs, “I was going to take it to artifact storage and research statements like it but… I was too tired to leave.”

\-------

They had come up with a way to hide the ears and tail. Jon just had to wear one of his longer skirts and then he could borrow a large sunhat from Sasha. He would look ridiculous but better than being seen as a cat/person hybrid. They made their way to the archive’s with less of a worry about that, and more of a worry about how to fix this mess. 

“Hey Sasha we should get something to eat, Jon when was the last time you’ve eaten.” Tim said in his most steely tone, him being the mother of the group strangely. 

Jon shrugged, before actually thinking about it, “Uhm yesterday around lunch I believe?”

“Alright that settles it, we are getting takeout and then we can get to work with researching this whole thing.” Tim says, “My treat.”

Martin, Sasha, and Jon went to the other room, leaving Tim to the breakroom to talk to the person over the phone. They all get comfortable and start searching the stacks for anything to do with weird books, and then Martin looks to see Jon staring at a bug in the corner. He keeps looking at Jon for a second, seeing his eyes slit like those of a cat’s as he tracks the bugs movements. 

“Jon?” He doesn’t answer the first time, so he carefully taps Jon’s shoulder, to which Jon’s head snapped to look at him. 

“What was that Martin?” He asked, cocking his head slightly. 

Martin shrugs, “you were. Uh, looking at a bug.”

“Ah.” Was all he replied with before Tim came in.

“Alright gentlpeople I have ordered food from that sushi place downtown.” Tim looked at Jon, and Jon begrudgingly felt happy that Tim remembered his favorite place to eat. 

Martin smiles, “Thanks Tim!”

“No problem martini glass, jonny boy, and sass master!” Tim puts his phone in his pocket and the starts doing his thing with trying to find files as well. 

The food came in a record time, and Tim had (terribly) snuck the food back down to where they all ate in the breakroom. After a while, Sasha notices Jon simply using a claw to pick up his food instead of using his chopsticks. She says nothing about it though and finishes her food along with everyone else. 

\--------

Jon had to get used to his new center of gravity and better hearing and almost slicing his lip open while doing his work and absentmindedly chewing at his skin. 

There was a knock at the door, and Jon’s head snaps up to see the door opening to Martin who walks in with a mug in his hands. It’s tea for Jon, and he looks up at Martin and gives a small nod, “Thank you.”

He tries to give a smile at Martin and takes the cup carefully. Now that he wasn’t worrying about being seen as incompetent, and the morning being full of all four of the archive crew talking it out he really feels like he can let down his walls, for just a little bit. 

Martin smiles back, “ You’re welcome Jon, if you need anything uh give us a shout.”

“Alright, and… if you find anything I would greatly appreciate if you came to me.”

He nods, before leaving Jon to his research and his tea. 

Martin was feeling a lot of emotions, because Jon had looked up and his eyes went all big. He looked adorable, loath as Martin was to admit that to anyone. At least this predicament left him with just some new appendages and did not fully turn him into a cat. 

But Martin was not equipped to deal with how cute that was, so he retreated as fast as possible.

\-------

Sasha had been to one to find something that was like Jon’s predicament, a statement about a man who didn’t read through the whole book either. It was rather unpleasant to see actually, because the only solution this man saw was to cut off the extra appendages and then go to hospital and say he got mugged. It was in horrible gory detail as well. 

“I am not doing that.” Jon said, tail flicking in horrified irritability, hands coming up to touch the very real ear on his head. 

“Yeah hell no we will find another way to fix this, not going to have an mutilation in the archives. Or like ever.” Tim says, trying to make a joke but it fell flat even to himself. 

There were other statements about cursed books, and the only solution ebing either dying or burning the books in question. 

Sasha sighs, “I guess we wait until we either find something better or we burn to book and hope that helps.”

Martin clears his throat, getting their attention, “As much as I like setting things on fire, maybe we shouldn’t do the book burning, what if it just means that Jon will be stuck like this. Not saying anything mean I just- you know.”

“Yes I would also rather we not set it on fire.” Jon said, before yawning. The clock had now hit nine in the evening and they were all very tired. 

Tim stares at them all before having a brilliant idea, “Alright sleepover at my house! It’s the closest.”

“Actually mine is Tim.” Sasha corrects him before he elbows her lovingly.

“But I actually have toiletries in case anyone wanted to sleepover.” 

“I am refraining from calling you something not very nice Tim.”

“Were you about to call me a whore Ms. James!”

“... maybe.”

The walk to Tim’s place was not very long, they even passed Sasha’s flat on the way. Jon pulled the large floppy sun hat down further, as if to make sure it wouldn’t fly away and show off his ears. He was feeling a bit uncomfy, walking around where anyone could see him, but it was a bit better than going all the way back to his flat. At least now he had a brief solution before they fixed this whole debacle. 

As soon as they made it back to Tim’s place, a small but not crampy flat with a nice kitchen. Sasha shucked off her shoes by the front door with Martin and Jon copying her behaviour. Tim threw his shoes into his room before gesturing to the whole of the flat.

“Welcome to mi casa folks! Time to lay low from all the stress of today.” He gives a smile, and Sasha pats his shoulder.

“That includes you too Tim. Do you want to cook or do I need to call a takeaway place?” She hummed, pulling off her coat as well. 

Jon took the hat of in a swift motion, leaving it on the coat rack that Tim must have gotten from a charity shop. He wriggled, waiting until he was acknowledged to sit down. Jon had not been over to many people’s houses, and had no clue what to do, especially not with more than one person. The last time he had been at a person’s house, it was when he and Georgie were still together. 

He kind of missed her and the Admiral, but now was not the time. 

“You good there bossman?” He feels a hand on his shoulder and flinches slightly, before looking to see Tim looking down at him. 

“Ah, yes I’m perfectly fine.” 

“Mhm, go sit down with Sasha and Martin, I’m cooking.” He says before patting light and then heading a few feet away to the kitchen, and Jon does go sit down, but claims the armchair as his own. He wriggles a bit to get comfortable and then sits still. Martin and Sasha are looking over something on her phone, and Jon busies himself with trying to find something interesting to read on his phone. 

When Tim finally comes back from the kitchen, he sees that Jon had taken over the armchair, and then fallen asleep on it. He looked worn out and the sleep is probably good for him. So he gestures for Martin and Sasha to come get their food. He takes his plate and sits by the coffee table on the floor and starts the TV onto do other things. 

They choose a weird cooking show that Sasha adores, and eat their food with relatively quiet talk. Martin went to make tea in Tim’s hardly used kettle, which the other awake people can appreciate. 

Now Tim was curious, as he went to go change into night clothes. He carefully taps Jon’s head, to see if he would wake up. There was nothing but a tail twitch, and he taps a few more times before Jon blearily opens his eyes and bats at Tim’s hands. 

“What?”

“You fell asleep. And you might wanna get changed into sleep clothes, I have some in the bathroom you can use.” 

Jon thinks about it and then nods, “That’s probably smart, thank you.”

He gets up out of his spot, and Tim let’s him be. Now wasn’t the time to poke and prod at anyone, Tim knew that well enough. Jon moves to go get on night clothes, and when he comes out he is wearing one of Tim’s very old shirts that was at least three sizes too big. Martin comes in with a mug, and hands it to Jon. Without realize it, Jon had started to -- was that really a purr?

Martin noticed it too, and looked a bit red in the face, before going back to the kitchen to not absolutely die. Sasha peeks her head around the wall and grins, before pulling her head back and talking. 

Jon is almost curled around the cup, and seems to realize what he was doing and looking both embarrassed and annoyed. 

Tim does not hide his smile, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Tim.” He sips his tea, and feels tired still.

\---------

Jon wakes up, and his teeth hurt. That’s all he could feel in the moment, his teeth hurt. He had a terrible habit of chewing on his hand’s and now he feels his teeth on his hand, he is chewing on his fingers.

He tries to stop for a second, staring up at the wall.

Jon quietly gets up of the armchair, and creeps over to the bathroom. He tries not to wake up Tim and Sasha who had fallen asleep on the floor, or Martin who was sleeping like the dead on the couch. He knows something is wrong, and he closes the door behind him before turning on the bathroom light. 

He looks in the mirror and pulls his lips back, to see his teeth. They were already sharp from the morning before, but something was hurting. Jon stares at it, and then keeps staring as he realizes that the teeth are loose. Oh god, they were going to fall out.

That’s what the pain was from, he thinks in a horrified haze, he was growing more teeth.

\--------

Martin wakes up first, as sunlight was assaulting his eyes. He looks around to notice Tim and Sasha on the floor, her hand was slapped over his face, as if pushing him away. He snorts, because even in sleep they were bickering like an old married couple. As he slowly comes to he notices his phone alarm about to blare. Then he sees that Jon is not on the armchair from the night before.

He thinks that maybe Jon had gone to work early, and drags himself up off the couch. Martin stretches and he hears his back pop. It was too early for his back to be hurting. 

There was a moment where he wondered if he should wake up Tim and Sasha, but then he decides to go to the bathroom and brush his teeth first. 

When he opens the door, he sees Jon laying on the floor. What the hell? 

“Jon?” Martin says quietly, before crouching down next to the prone body, “Come on, wake up.”

There is not an answer, and Martin goes to tap the man awake, he notices something in his hand. What is that? 

“Christ is that teeth?” He says, a bit too loudly to be polite. Then he sees Jon’s eyes flickering under his eyelids. Martin tries again, “Hey, Jon, come on get up.”

Jon finally seems to wake up, and he flinches at the proximity of another person, “Martin?”

His words are a bit slurred with something like pain and Martin is still reeling over the fact that Jon is able to speak, and he can see teeth in his mouth as he talks. 

“I know you just woke up but why do you have teeth in your hand?”

Jon looks down at the teeth in his hands, and then back at Martin and he looks frantic. He shoots up from the floor, ears flattened, as he looks in the mirror and pulls his lips back with his finger to see that he did, in fact, still have teeth. But there were more than he should have, teeth that are a bit longer, a bit sharper than whatever happened te first night that he read the leitner.

“Oh.” Jon takes a deep breath and then sighs, looking at Martin. 

“Maybe you want to talk about it after you eat something?” He says carefully, and Jon blinks and nods, following Martin into the kitchen. 

Tim is in there, and looks confused at the looks on their faces, before seeing the issue himself, “Ziplock baggies then.” 

Jon appreciated the bag, even if he felt immediate despair at the idea of changing further. Tim looks at him, expecting an answer now. 

“Found him in the bathroom this morning.” Martin said in an almost whisper. 

Tim then looks to Jon, gesturing his hand as if to get the explanation faster, Jon blinks a few times and then starts, “I think that we have to burn the book.”

“What? You were against the idea yesterday!” A voice comes from behind. Sasha had woken up it seems, and she was standing leaning on the wall of the kitchen. She looked at them like they were crazy.

Jon shakes his head, “I have a feeling.”

“A feeling?” Sasha says again, deadpan at his blunt but unreasonable jump.

His ear twitches in annoyance, tail flicking, “It’s just. Last night I had my normal human teeth fall out Sasha! I either let this thing change me completely or I burn the book. I feel like if we burn the book it will stop this from getting worse.”

Tim looks at him now, disbelief on his face, “What if that just gets rid of your chances to fix this?”

“It won’t.” Jon says with complete confidence, eye’s slits as he stares down at the baggie that geld his teeth. And maybe he had a good idea.

Martin sighs, “Can we at least wait until tomorrow, if anything else happens we can do that, but I think we should… Hang back a bit?”

“And what! Wait until I start walking on all fours?” Jon hissed in frustration, and they could see his hair was starting to actually bristle, the man in question shrunk slightly.

Sasha looked at the three of them and then put her foot down, “That’s a good idea Martin. Jon if you start feeling weird, like something bad is about to happen, or if you feel the need to slap a cup off the table then we can burn the book, but we can’t just jump straight into conclusions.”

Jon looks at all three of them like they were crazy before finally sighing in defeat, “Fine. Alright.”

Then he pauses for a second and mumbles, “Sorry.”

“Hey we understand why you’re upset here, but remember that we are all only human, even you with the additional appendages.” Sasha says, “though I do think you should apologize for hissing at Martin.”

Martin splutters, “No sasha really it’s fine I get it-”

“I am sorry for hissing at you Martin.” Jon says, he still sounds a bit like he’s not used to apologising, but hes trying, “That is a good idea.”

“Ah. No worries Jon.” Martin says, before Tim looks at all of them.

“Alright, break it up. It’s time to eat and go back to spooky basements.” 

“Eugh, must you always use the word spooky, it’s not even that bad-” Jon says, before he’s interrupted by Tim.

Tim raises his eyebrow, “Oh no it is so spooky. Also you cannot dodge the fact that this is supernatural now! Are you still a skeptic?”

Jon rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair, “I was never a skeptic, I just thought… If I pretended it didn’t exist it would go away. Look where that got us.”

“I knew it!” Sasha crowed, before realizing her volume and looking sheepish, “I mean. You came up with the most bizarre reasons for things, I knew it was either you were in denial, or you were just really really dense.”

“Hey it’s ok, I just thought he was dense.” Tim chimed in, his smile showing now remorse for the jab. He meant it all in good fun, and Jon again rolled his eyes.

“Remind me to never tell you anything ever again Tim.” He snarks right back, and Tim laughs.

Martin watched along and smiles, before snorting when Tim goes, “Do you think you could use regular dye on the cat ears?”

Sasha laughs, “Animal friendly of course!”

“I hate you both so very much.” Jon grumbles, but he looks relaxed now at the ease in which they had meshed together.

“Would that count as cruelty?” Martin says, barely above a whisper, but it send’s Sasha in to ugly laughing fits, and Tim slaps his knee.

Jon hits Martin on the leg with his tail, seeming to have more control over it now, and Martin laughs along with the other two. 

“Food time. I got some plates out.” Tim says, and everyone listened. 

\------

They were all researching vigorously again, until the door opened to Elias. Jon’s eyes went small, and he flattened his ears against his head. The hat was in his office, and all of them had been looking through statements for the past few hours, forgetting about Jon’s condition was not known to others. Shit he should have thought about this. Still he straightened up, and looked over to the man who was slowly approaching.

“Hello Jon, what is all of this?” Elias asks, in the voice that says he both annoyed and pleased. Jon blinked a few times and then tried to think of what to say.

Martin looks over, “We are looking for statements pertaining to this one case. It was similar, and we wanted cross reference.”

That was the most easy lie Martin had come up with. Jon could almost marvel at it, before turning back to Elias, “Yes, exactly.”

Elias stare for a second, and the four of them felt pinned like bugs, until he raised a single eyebrow, “Ah. Of course. I’ll leave you all to that then. Though I do want to say to continue digitizing and reading statement Jon.”

He leaves then and they all let out a breath, the feeling of being watched hadn’t left though. Jon still felt wary, pressing himself into a place a shelf and the wall didn’t quiet meet. Tim looked over, and gestured for Jon to walk over to him. 

He did just that and Tim wrapped an arm around his shoulder, “You look like we just saw a 200 year old ghost. You alright?”

Though Jon could tell that Tim was the one who was more disturbed, and that he needed to be holding something. He did not mind that at least, so he shrugged, “Just jumpy I suppose.”

“Hey Sash?” Tim says, with Sasha turning to him he grinned, “Are we staying at your flat tonight?”

Jon sighed, “It might be smarter with us all together.”

“We could keep a better eye on you at least.” Sasha says thoughtfully, “I mean imagine if Martin hadn’t found you in the bathroom, you might have skittered off to do something on your own. Or maybe hid it.”

Said cat/man hybrid looked offended, but then had to give her credit, he probably would have done that, “Yes that sounds like a good idea.”

Martin nodded, before looking at the plastic bag with the book that caused this mess. With that they all went back to researching, Jon had taken to climbing the shelves for certain boxes. Then he sighed, and looked at the other three, “i’m going to read these statements, they all have something to do with Leitner’s and I would rather do work while fixing this.”

“Sounds good boss!” Tim says, before going back to flipping through pages. 

Martin paperclips a few relevant notes and statements together, “I’ll make tea in a few.”

“You’re a godsend Martin.” Sasha says, at the same time Jon says, “thank you.”

\------

That night Jon finds himself scared to lay on the armchair alone, and sits next to the couch since Sasha and Tim and Martin took up the whole thing. He sits crisscross on the floor, next to Martin’s legs -- since he was the closest to the end. It was not as comfortable as the armchair, but he found himself a little relieved to be near someone. 

Sasha gets up from her seat and then absently as she walks past she pets his head. Jon startled himself by purring, until he realized that Sasha was now standing.

“Oh my god I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have.” Sasha looks apologetic though, and Jon tries to find it in himself to get annoyed, but now he felt sad that she had stopped. 

“Uh. It’s fine. I don’t mind. Just? Ask first next time.” He stumbled through that sentence, and Sasha nods her acknowledgement before going back to get whatever she was going to get. 

Jon looked up to see Tim and Martin looking at him and he irritably went, “Yes?”

When they didn’t answer he just hisses, “Go ahead, is that what you want?”

Martin looks at him, “You sound annoyed, you can have boundaries Jon. If you dont want us to touch you we wont.”

Tim nods his agreement, “Consent is important.” He jokes, though they know hes being serious. 

With that Jon thinks about it, “I would prefer you use words when you ask. Reading people is hard.”

“Of course, may I pet you then?” Martin asks now with words.

“Same question here.” Tim finger guns at him. 

Again he thinks about it, and then says, “Ok. If I say stop you do so or I’ll…” He can’t think of a threat.

“Bite them?” Sasha says, as she walks back in with popcorn and a soda. 

He makes a face, “Eugh, I would prefer to not do that.”

She laughs and takes her place back on the sofa, Tim pets his head carefully and Jon lets it happen.

“Stop.” Immediately Tim withdrew his hand. Jon shakes his head, hair puffing out.

“What hair products do you use boss, your hair is soft!” Tim asks now, more interested in stealing whatever conditioner Jon uses than in the TV. Sasha snorts, and Martin is giving Tim an amused look. 

Jon himself thinks about it and laughs as well, “I don’t remember I’ll actually have to look when I get home next.”

Tim boos quietly, “Send a picture of it if you can, that would help a lot.”

“I will do that Tim, you might have to remind me though.” He hums and then turns to Martin, “Go ahead. It’s only fair I suppose.”

Martin cocks his head, “you sure?”

“Yeah yeah.” Jon says before looking at the popcorn bowl, “Sasha pass the bowl.”  
'

“I will throw the bowl at you.”

“And I will bite you.”

Sasha gasps, “You just said you didn’t like the idea of biting people!”

“You are an exception.” Jon says very primly, and Tim snorts. 

While Sasha and Jon fight over the bowl, Martin pets Jon’s hair. Said man does get the popcorn he wanted, but he also did get a few kernels pelted in his face. Jon grabs a handful and hands the bowl back with a face of pure smugness.

Throughout whatever horrible comedy movie Tim put on, Martin was petting Jon’s hair absentmindedly scratching behind his ears. 

After the movie they saw that Jon and Tim as fallen asleep. Sasha takes a moment to snap a few pictures of their friends. And wow isn’t that nice? Martin thinks, to think of them as friends and not coworkers and his boss.

She and Martin bicker over what else to watch, after Sasha wrestled the remote away from a dead asleep Tim. They ended up watching something about aliens, on Sasha’s behest, as she was the one with the remote. Martin could not move to take it, since he had someone asleep against his legs. 

\-------

Again he wakes up in pain, hands shaking and feet hard to walk on. It was as if something was stabbing him. He almost gets up to repeat the same thing he did the night before, stumbling a bit less gracefully.

As he finally sits down on the bathroom floor he notices his nails growing strangely now. The claws he had before was nothing compared to this. He stared as the grew and changed before his eyes in the most painful way possible. They grew at a slight curve. He tested them in a morbid curiosity to find that they were stronger than normal nails. 

He looks to see the bottom of his feet had grown pink, as if he had….

“Paw pads. Fuck.” The same pink was on his hands, standing out against his darker skin. 

Jon ponders if he should wake his friends up, when had he started thinking of them that way -- it didn’t matter -- but he decided against it. 

Instead of passing out from pain on the floor this time he limped back to the kitchen and took out a bottle of advil from his bag and laid there, on the cool floor, finally able to sleep. 

\--------

Tim looks around and saw the missing member of his sleeping party on the kitchen floor, curled up in a little ball. 

He kneeled next to him, “Bossman, Jonny boy, Jon wake up. Did something happen?”

Said man sat up tiredly, and groaned at the feeling of his bones after laying on the cold ground twice in a row. He was too old for this.

“Yes. Look.” Jon shows Tim his hands, and Tim looks him over and sighs. 

“Suppose I should go get my lighter?”

Jon nodes before carefully putting a hand on Tim’s shoulder, “And a nail file please.”

“Gotcha.” Tim gives him fingerguns, before going to grab said things. Jon sits on the floor and glares at his hands. He feels out of control. The only way he can at least get the situation from getting too out of hand was to burn that leitner. He knows it. 

Something good had come from the past two days, he thinks in a small part of his brain. Jon made friends. Well, maybe they had been friends before, but now he doesn’t feel the need to be as professional feeling. He doesn’t feel like he has to pretend to be more than he is. Sasha and Tim won’t get mad at him for needing help. And Martin well, he seems nice and he has been really helpful during this.

He shouldn’t have been so mean to them in the beginning of his tenure as Head Archivist. Before he can get too self deprecating though, Tim comes back with a handful of lighters and a nail file. Jon gets to work on his hands.

When Martin and Sasha wake up he has made it as good as he can, if he files too far down it’ll hurt, and he left them just a little sharp, because it made him feel panicky in a way he can’t explain when he doesn’t have them a bit pointed. Still he gets up and puts on fuzzy socks that Tim lent him.

“We’re burning the book.” Jon said with finality, and Martin and Sasha look at him as if looking for more changes, “Paw pads.” He said in lieu of explanation and shows them his hands before Tim with a little baggie of lighters rolls in. 

“Hello all, after book burning we can go get coffee or something.” He says, to hurry Sasha and Martin into putting on their day clothes faster, which is the same clothes from the day before except for Sasha and Tim. 

Jon puts on the big floppy hat and they are all putting on their shoes to go and grab the book from the institute. 

When they get there they find Elias holding said book in the archives. 

“Mr. Bouchard!” Martin says, greeting him for the all of them. Jon is strung up with tension in his chest, staring at the man and the book. 

Elias looks at the four of them, “Hello, I see you have a Leitner down here?”

“Yep we do double boss, we were just about to look at it. Not read it of course.” Tim says, and Jon is about to say ‘too late’ before he just decides to not. 

Their boss stares at them, “Well it’s a very dangerous book, I might send it down to artifact storage-”

“No, that’ll be alright. We can handle ourselves, Mr. Bouchard.” Jon says, his tone not yet betraying his fear. 

Elias seems to see through him, and Jon can swear Elias can see the ears, can see everything. He just hopes his eyes weren’t giving him away. 

“Of course. But please send me the report from Artifact Storage when you send it down.” He puts the plastic down and leaves, “And of course, if you read it I do encourage you to tell me. So that nothing bad happens.”

They all think that he is full of bullshit. 

He leaves, and Martin snatches up the book and they all wait until lunch to leave the institute. 

Sasha pulls out a metal trash can, and Tim hands Jon a lighter. The purple and red thing flicks to life as Jon flicks it with ease that spoke of many years of cigarette addiction, which he was craving one right now. 

Either way. He holds the book in his hands and lets the edge of the pages catch with flame, the flames almost licking up his hands before he finally drops it into the trash can. They watch it go up in flame, and Jon’s ears are flicking. 

They stay there until it’s ash.

Jon is slammed with the information that he had stopped any further transformation.

But he’s stuck with what he has now.


	2. Buddy System

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah ok im writing more. Sue me I love them.
> 
> Anyway just a bit of fluff, and self deprication on Jon's end, but ya know: thats Canon anyway. Pining ;3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peep the last sentence ;)

“So you’re stuck like this?” Tim asked carefully, his gait was tense and worried. 

Jon stared at the fire with eyes wide, eyes slit almost until his pupil’s were invisible to the green-hazel-gold of his iris. He couldn’t even stand to say a word. With ears flattened to his head he nodded dumbly.

Sasha blinked, “Oh.” 

“I. I think I need to go.” Jon murmured more to himself than anyone else. 

There was a hand on his shoulder, and then another on his right, “Jon it’s going to be ok.”

Martin and Sasha flanked him on both sides, and Tim was standing in front of him. He wondered what to do. The only possible thing to do to get rid of what the book did was self mutilation, and no one wanted that, least of all Jon. Even in two days it would feel like cutting of his hands and legs, albeit stranger. 

“Lets go to your flat alright? Then we can see what we can do.” Sasha says calmly, though her mind was racing in worry. 

Jon sighs, looking far older than he is, ears flicking, “Ok. That’s… that’ll work.”

As he shoved his head back into the hat, the four of them went back to his flat, Jon deathly silent on the train as Martin and Tim stood by where he and Sasha sat. It was like they were standing guard glaring down anyone, or giving a pointed polite smile in Martin’s case, that looked their way. Sasha takes Jon’s hand carefully, and he didn’t fuss, simply taking her hand as it was offered. 

As they sped to Jon’s flat they close the door behind them, and Tim pulls him to sit down on the couch and handed him the fox that had been on the floor. 

Finally, in the quiet of the room Jon speaks, “Why are you being so nice to me? I’m obviously not particularly human anymore, and it’s work putting up with me, and now it’s even worse.”

Sasha sits next to him, “It’s because that’s what friends do. And even if you aren’t human you’re still Jon, just with some quirks. That’s how it is. If Tim suddenly barked like a dog and grew some ears we would still love him.”

“I would buy a muzzle.” Tim says, and Martin elbows him while Sasha snorts, before it goes back to serious mode.

Jon looked up and the barest hint of a smile showed, “Are you sure you dont need one now?”

“There he is! My favorite bastard!” He crows, and Jon laughs a little, which encourages them all to be a little lighter now. 

Tim looks proud, and he hums, “I’m glad that we stopped you turning into a cat monster altogether. But we can work with this alright?”

Martin nods, “Really. If we can’t get rid of the new changes, I think we can all love and accept them.”

“Yep. And you’re cute so that helps.” Sasha says, and Jon glares at her fake innocent expression. 

“So I’m calling everyone into work for the next day. If double boss has an issue I’ll tell him we’re all sick.” Tim says, before getting up.

Jon shakes his head, “I will head into work tomorrow-”

“Nope! Rest and recovery day with your friends.” Sasha says, “If you do I’ll come get you by the scruff.”

“Sasha James if you make another cat joke I’m demoting you to least favorite.” He said in his most imperious tone, which he held until he saw Martin and Tim snickering. 

She gasps, “No my spot as the most loved in the office!” Dramatically Sasha throws her hands over her head, resting on her heart and she lets herself fall limp onto the couch.

Jon makes a noise of surprise when she sits back up, but then rolls his eyes, when you knew him you would see he was amused and fond. 

“I think you are wrong Ms. James, I am obviously the most loved.” Tim says from the other side of Jon, “I mean look at me.”

Sasha makes a grotesque face as if about to gag at the sight of Tim and he reaches over to give her a light smack on the arm. Jon watches as they reach over him to playfully bicker. He and Martin make eye contact, and Jon mouths, ‘get me out of here.’

Martin snorts and Jon feels a bit warm, “Alright get off me. Obviously neither of you are the most loved.” 

Tim and Sasha look at him with betrayal and he takes their moment of indignation to dart up off the couch and out of the line of fire. He grins as he takes a seat on the armrest of the ratty loveseat on the other side of the slightly too small room. Martin looks tired, and Jon gestures to the loveseat as well, and Martin sits down. 

“Get off the armrest you heathen.” Sasha says, and Jon fixes his sitting position to look as professional as possible.

“Seeing as this is my home, I will do as I please.” Jon says, turning his nose up.

Tim pelts a pillow at him that he did not expect and he makes another noise of surprise --one that sounded suspiciously like a meow -- and falls off the armrest. Thankfully not onto the floor, since Jon doesn’t know how well he would do with a bruised hip. Bad news, he had just fallen into Martin’s lap. Even worse news, it was pleasant. 

An oof noise came from Martin where Jon’s bony arm met his leg weirdly. Then he looks down at Jon, “Are you alright?”

“Yes I will be fine. Sorry let me just.” He practically rolled off of Martin, but somehow landed on his feet, “Sorry, are you alright?”

“Yeah I’m good, dont worry.” Jon didn’t believe him because his face looked a bit red, and he knows how uncomfortable he can be to catch. Georgie had called him a ‘bag of sharp bones and too much hair.’ Very lovingly, but still true.

He dusts himself off, “Again, sorry.” Jon looks over at Sasha and Tim to see them sharing a conspiratorial face. “What are you two babbling about?”

Sasha grins and shrugs, “Nothin.”

“Mhm, let me pretend to believe you.” Jon says, before thinking about where to sit down. Sitting on the armrest is a no, because he would rather not accidentally claw anyone, and sitting by Sasha and Tim is a no. The were troublemakers, even if Sasha acted as if she wasn’t. 

So he just sits down on the floor. 

Martin then looks around the room, face back to a normal pallor, “So should we come up with a plan? I don’t think we can go back to whatever we did before this.”

He was right too. Jon didn’t know how he felt about this situation, he wishes he could just go back to ignoring the supernatural and anything strange as just a bizarre happening and not anything malicious. Tim and Sasha nodded, and he found himself doing the same. Of course they would need a plan, and Jon is glad that Martin brought it up. 

Tim looks at them, “I think we need more sleepovers on regular occasion.”

“Tim be serious.” Jon and Sasha scolded him at the same time. 

“I am being dead serious, maybe the wording wasn’t right but I’d feel better if we were all together more often. It’s not the only thing we could do, but it’ll make me feel better.” He says, before going quiet, looking distant. 

Jon scoots over to awkwardly pat him on the knee, and Tim gives a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Tim is this so that we can all keep an eye on eachother?” Martin says cautiously, “Because that is probably a good idea. If something else weird happens we can all be there.”

Sasha looks like she knows something, but doesnt say anything about it, and she wraps an arm around Tim, “Yeah, that way we can either stop whatever is happening, or at least help with the aftermath.”

“Ah now I understand. That can be apart of the plan.” Jon says before picking at his nails, scooting back to give Tim his leg space back, “We can also check every book we have, to make sure it’s not… a Leitner.”

Martin nods, leaning forward a bit, “Yeah. With that we can travel in a buddy system.”

Sasha blinks, having a second of confusion, “Why that one?”

“I just thought, well. If there was a buddy system, we are less likely to have anything weird happen right? And whoever is with Jon can help keep the ears and tail from being seen.” Martin looks a bit embarrassed at his idea now, but Jon and Tim are nodding. 

“Smart smart ok. My bad for ever doubting you Martin.” 

"It's alright." Martin gives a small smile.

Sasha hums, and then continues her train of thought, “Should we make a note of these things, so we don’t forget?”

Jon stands up and then makes a face, “Sitting on the floor is awful for my posture. But yes I can go grab a notepad.”

“Old man, your posture is always awful.” Tim quips, and Jon gives him a leveling look. He grins and holds his hands up in surrender, “Fine fine. Go sit with Martin then.”

Jon pretends to not have heard him and comes back with a notepad and a pen, he gives Martin a look of asking, and Martin nods. Jon sits down on the loveseat, and starts writing down what they have so far, making a little numbered list in scrawling handwriting. 

“Ok so we have the buddy system, ‘more sleepovers’, and checking books before reading them.” Jon repeats back, and they all nods. 

Tim takes the lead in discussion now, “Alright so here's how we can implement those.”

\------

Jon is awake in the middle of the night, but he is not in pain, nor does he feel any more changes. He chews on his finger as he thinks about something he should have done a while ago, hell he should have done it years ago. Still he misses his friend.

He contacts Georgie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehe


	3. Cat speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgie <3<3<3<3<3 She makes everything better, and this chapter got a little long so I'm sorry!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chat Fic appearance, but only bc im a slut for Jon and Georgie interactions

Georgie startles when she gets a text, usually everyone is asleep, but she likes to edit in the middle of the night so that in the morning she can sleep as long as she wants. Or until the admiral decides to wake up his momma by being a screaming bastard. She loves that cat but he has stepped on her boobs at three o’clock in the morning more times than he should have. 

  
Either way, she pauses what she’s doing to see a contact she never thought she would hear from again. 

  
“What the hell?” She murmurs to herself, opening the message. It’s been years, and yet here is a text. She thinks, ‘what the hell, why not. Sponsors are hell, might as well.’

**Jon** : Hey Georgie, how are you doing? It’s Jon by the way.

  
**Georgie** : Jon, it’s been forever! Im good hbu

  
**Jon** : I’m doing well

  
**Georgie** : Alright down to business, this isn't a weird get back together plan right

  
**Jon** : God no Georgie, I wouldn’t do that. I love you. As a friend. Full stop.

  
**Georgie** : mkay then what do you need?

  
**Jon:** I don’t need anything, I just wanted to see how you were. How is the podcast?

  
**Georgie** : Jonathan Sims doing small talk? Who are you and what have you done with him

  
**Jon:** You are so very rude.

  
**Georgie** : No you.

  
**Jon:** Yes I suppose I deserve that, but really. 

  
**Georgie** : It’s good Jon, hit my two hundred episode the other day.

**Jon:** Oh yeah, the one about the haunted garden?

  
**Georgie** : You actually listen!!!!!!

  
**Jon** : Of course I do! I even bought you a kofi once.

  
**Georgie** : You sly bastard 

**Jon** : Why does everyone call me a bastard, this is harassment Georgina.

  
**Georgie:** Who else calls you a bastard, I’ll come get em

  
**Jon** : Oh no worries, it’s all very lovingly.

**Georgie** : ???? FRIENDS???

**Jon:** Yes I have friends, to spite the popular belief I do know more people than my boss

**Georgie:** I’m actually proud of you

  
**Jon:** You should not be, I was forcefully pulled into friendship.

  
**Georgie** : Ah. Yep theres the Jon I know

**Jon** : Rude.

  
**Georgie** : mhm old man who types with grammatical correctness and punctuation.

  
**Jon:** D:  
**Jon:** I hated that.

**Georgie:** HAHA I’m screenshotting that

  
**Jon:** Betrayed.

  
**Georgie:** I’m using it as blackmail

  
**Jon:** You could very easily blackmail me with the Admiral, no need for other material

**Georgie:** Speaking of the menace, he is doing good. Yes I see you typing and I know you were gonna ask about him

  
**Jon:** You know me so very well

  
**Georgie:** (Has sent a picture: it’s of the admiral screaming for food)

  
**Jon:** A good boy.

  
**Georgie:** He is actually evil.

  
**Jon:** Don’t speak about my son like that

  
**Georgie:** You don’t even have visitation rights

  
**Jon:** Yes that was my bad, I do miss him terribly

  
**Georgie:** What am i? Chopped liver??

**Jon:** That was my evil plan all along, to steal the cat

  
**Georgie** : I would not be surprised 

  
**Jon:** Tell him I love him

  
**Georgie:** Come tell him yourself

  
**Jon:** Maybe I will, but first I should apologize  
**Jon:** For the breakup and for being an ass about it as well. Afterwards. I miss being your friend

  
**Georgie** : Aww, Jon i missed you too you big dummy  
**Georgie:** <3

  
**Jon:** ….<3

  
**Georgie** : what have you been up to

  
**Jon:** I got promoted

  
**Georgie** : Whoa really? To what?

  
**Jon** : Head Archivist

  
**Georgie** : Jon i love you but…. You didn’t even study library sciences. Or like anything related to archiving

  
**Jon** : Yeah and I also regret it, it’s a mess

 **Jon:** but my boss said I would 'make the perfect Archivist'

**Georgie:** That sounds hella freaky, but alright

**Jon:** I do not know why it capitalized, my bad. And yes, maybe it is a little... weird now that I look at it

**Georgie** : Mhm, I knew it was a mistake. Also yeah. That is so weird 

**Georgie** : Alright, now tell me about your friends, we can talk about the creepy boss later

  
**Jon** : Ok so there’s Tim, he's one of the most flirtacious people I have ever met and he has a fiery personality  
**Jon** : Him and Sasha are dating  
**Jon** : He’s also the one who dragged me to pride one year, it was fun

  
**Georgie** : Love him already

  
**Jon:** So there’s Sasha too, she is really nice  
**Jon** : I kind of think you two would get along, shes really curious but understanding.   
**Jon** : Sasha is also the smartest person in the archives

  
**Georgie:** That is a big compliment   
**Georgie:** I feel like you like these people

  
**Jon:** They are… ok.

  
**Georgie** : uh huh.

  
**Jon** : Yes and then there's Martin

  
**Georgie** : Another one!!! Thats a total of three friends jon, thats more than you had ever

  
**Jon** : I am going to go to sleep and pretend you don't exist if you keep being so very hurtful

  
**Georgie** : Alright alright, tell me about your Martin

  
**Jon** : So Martin. At first I didn't like him

  
**Georgie** : That's how it is for most people you end up being friends with

  
**Jon** : Yes alright I’ll concede that.   
**Jon** : But he’s really nice actually, now that I stop being…

  
**Georgie** : An ass?

  
**Jon:** I was going to say uptight, but ok.  
**Jon** : And he makes good tea. He’s a dog person, which is a crime though

  
**Georgie:** What a horrible offense

  
**Jon** : I know, terrible.   
**Jon** : Though he is nice

  
**Georgie** : mhm. You keep saying hes nice  
**Georgie** : pretty suspicious to me

  
**Jon** : What are you trying to get at Georgina

  
**Georgie** : I’m only saying that you seem to reeaaaaallly like talking about him

  
**Jon** : I dislike you 

  
**Georgie** : I also dislike you <3 now continue what you were saying

  
**Jon** : Ok and all three of them are very considerate, despite being a bit more… social than I am  
**Jon:** Except for Martin but he’s just got this teddy bear persona, so people are nice to him

  
**Georgie** : well goof, I know how it can be

  
**Jon** : They ask before they give me hugs, very polite  
**Jon** : Anyway enough about my life, what about you?

  
**Georgie** : well i’m going to be collaborating with Melanie King soon

  
**Jon** : Ah, the Ghost Hunter?

  
**Georgie** : I can hear your distaste

  
**Jon** : Maybe you can, go on

  
**Georgie** : Melanie is nice! Well, no she’s a bit like you actually

  
**Jon** : Insulting her behind her back I see

  
**Georgie** : You shut your mouth

  
Georgie finds that she rather enjoys the conversation, and decides to leave the editing until after. She invites him over that Saturday though, since he wouldn’t be working. 

  
\-------

  
Jon wakes up warm, feeling comfy in his spot, curled around the plush fox and sun shining on his back. He hears cooing though, which does alert him to the fact that he is in fact purring. While the warmth is tempting, he probably should get up from his sleeping spot. Jon sits up and stretches. Tim is still asleep, and it is Sasha and Martin who are both cooing over him. After he glares at them they stop, but Sasha looks like she regret nothing. He stands up, ears flicking. 

  
“Good morning sleepyhead.” Sasha hums, “We were waiting on you to get up for permission to make food.”

Jon looks at them before sighing, “Well if we are actually going to be staying in other people’s flats, you might as well have permission to use everything. Except fot the things in the closet those are from uni.”

  
“Ah thanks Jon.” Martins says, “Do you have a kettle?”

  
He has to think about it for a second before walking over to the kitchen and opening a cupboard. On the top shelf is an unopened kettle, still in the box. He points to it, unable to reach without crawling up on counters and he doesn’t want to lose all his decorum. Martin, being the tall man he is, grabs it and looks at Jon with a flabbergasted expression. 

  
“Have you never made tea?”

  
“I have, but I just microwave it.” Jon shrugs, “I don’t really see the difference?”

  
Martin stares for a second in fond shock, “I am not letting you make yourself tea anymore.” He sounds very set in his decision and goes about unboxing the kettle. 

  
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Jon says, and Martin then turns to apologize and Jon frowns, “It was a joke, don’t worry.”

  
“Ah ok, dry humor is hard to spot.” Martin says, and Jon hums in agreement, before leaning over to see what Sasha is doing. Jon watches while she bakes and continues for a minute before his phone goes off. He picks it up of the counter and remembers the conversation with Georgie. 

  
“Shit.”

  
“You good Jon?” Sasha calls from her spot at the oven, and Jon gives into his childish urge to sit up on the counter. 

  
‘How should I word this.’ Jon thinks to himself, before just getting out with it, “A friend from uni asked me to come over to her house on Saturday, and I said yes.”

  
“Ah. The issue being-”

  
“The cat ears yes. I do miss her of course, but I don’t how she’ll react.” He sighs, leaning his head back on the cabinets, tail flicking. 

  
Martin looks over, “Do you think she’ll react badly?”

  
He stops, and thinks about the kind of person Georgie is, and then realizes she wouldn’t enjoy having a huge secret kept from her if he actually wanted to be her friend. No, she isn’t the type to freak out over anything. If anything, she’ll probably find another way to say he act’s like the Admiral’s father. 

  
“No I don’t.”

  
“Alright, tell us about her.” Sasha prompts him, and Jon starts to tell them the story of how he and Georgie became friend’s. Along with the breakup.

  
\----------

  
When Jon was going to get dressed for the day, he did not see Sasha and Martin talking. Mostly about how to get over slight jealousy.

\-------

  
Saturday, they all are staying at Tim’s and Jon is going over to Georgie’s. They are not using the buddy system there since they know he’s only a train ride away and they trust him to get there safe. In the flat Martin and Tim and Sasha are lounging on the couch. He left in a big skirt and the floppy hat. Jon promises that he will be home with food later.

  
Getting to Georgie’s was surprisingly easy, and Jon pulls his hat down on his head a little tighter, as the draft picked up. He sent a text that said that he would be there in only a few minutes of walking. Jon’s tail is flicking slightly, but he can explain it away as the wind for the time being. As he gets to the door of her flat he takes a deep breath and knocks. 

“Jon!” Georgie opened her arms in a gesture asking for a hug. He leans into it, and she holds his tightly for a second. 

  
“Hello Georgie.” He smiles now, and she ushers him inside. The Admiral is meowing loudly and runs up to Jon.

  
‘ _You!_ ’ 

  
Did the Admiral Just talk? Jon looks around to see if Georgie was gaping in shock, but no. He just heard the Admiral speak, he had just translated cat to english. Oh that is certainly something that he didn’t realize would be a positive of this situation he had gotten himself into. 

  
‘Jon!’ Admiral meowed again, and Jon leaned down so pick up the fuzzy ball. 

  
“He certainly missed you.” Georgie says with a smile, Jon smiled back at her, trying to maneuver his arms so that he could fix his hat and hold the twenty something pound cat. 

  
“Yes it’s me Admiral. Did you miss me?” Georgie laughs, because Jon talked to the cat like he was an actual admiral.

  
‘ _Yes yes yes!_ ’ 

  
“Chatty boy! Stinky chatty boy missed his even stinkier dad.” Georgie reaches over to pat the cat on the head, cooing. Jon laughs through his noise, and the Admiral wiggles from all the attention. 

  
The flat is lovely, with matching chairs at the dining table and everything meeting her green and halloween-y taste. He found the bookshelf skulls were a good touch, and he was thankful she never put up spider webs. Following Georgie to the couch he sits down and places the Admiral down on his lap.

  
“You wanna take off your hat? It’ll probably get a bit hot in here, the AC is messed up.”

  
Jon shakes his head, “I’m alright, also did you finish editing that episode?”

  
Georgie nods, “yup! It’ll be on the air soon. This one was a doozy.”

  
“I bet it will be, under all the sound effects.” Jon grins, and Georgie reaches across to smack him on the arm.

  
‘ _Mom! Mom! Georgie!_ ’ The Admiral screams, and Jon pets him, “She’s right there Admiral. Go get her if you want her attention.”

  
“You talk to him like you’re having conversation with a real person.” She pokes fun at him, and he give a conspiratorial look.

  
“Maybe I am.”

  
She gives him an amused disbelieving face, “As if, but if anyone could talk to cats it would be you. Swear you’re a ‘crazy cat lady’ or whatever old sexist nonsense.”

  
Underneath the hat, his ears twitch.

  
“So any other friends than Melanie?” He asks, running his hand through the Admirals fur, said cat laying down in his lap and quietly purring. Jon keeps making sure he isn't doing the same. 

  
Georgie looks at him and then hums, “Actually not really, I mean I know people through work like Sarah Baldwin, a camera woman, and I’ve kept touch with Jordan from college.”

  
“Oh how is he doing?” Jon asks, before his mind starts to remind him of the name Sarah. A sudden weird feeling in his gut makes him flinch but Georgie must not have noticed.

  
She gives a thumbs up, “He’s doing good actually, I think he’s running a extermination thing right now, which he likes.”

  
“Eugh, don’t know how I’d feel getting into places with lots of bugs. Or spiders.” he makes a face of disgust, and Georgie nods.

  
“Yeah but he loves it.”

  
“Good on him.” He hums, “So anything else going on?”

  
Georgie smiles slightly, “Ah yeah, I got invited to pride, ya know with Melanie.”

  
“Oh that sounds nice, only a few months from now.” Jon fixes his hat, “As a friend or a ‘gal-pal’ situation?”

  
“I don’t know why I invite you over.” Georgie keeps a straight face for all of three seconds, and then she starts snickering, “As friends Jon.”

  
“That sounded a bit disappointed, am I missing something?” He can feel the shit eating grin on his face, and Georgie reaches over and flicks his hat. He has a second of fear, and his heart stops when the hat flies off. 

  
The room go quiet, Georgie was laughing before she looked at him and stopped dead. She stares at his ears, and he can tell his eyes are doing something weird. He stops petting the Admiral, and he meows loudly.

  
‘ _Jon! Pets!_ ’

  
Georgie blinks, “Are those real?”

  
Jon cringes, and Georgie’s flicker up to said ears, that are now flattening to his head, “Yes?”

  
“You’re not joking ok. Shit. well. How did that happen Jon, and why are you now a cat-boy?”

  
He shrinks on himself and tells her what happened.

  
\------

  
‘ _Jon! Treats_?’ The Admiral says after he finishes explaining, and he pets the cat on the head.

  
“Ok so when you said you could talk to cats, you for real can hear what he's saying?” Georgie asks now, looking more excited than worried, and Jon is so glad she just accepted it. It was nice to have people he could trust, he feels like he’ll need that in his life one day soon. She leans over and pets the Admiral.

  
Jon hums, “Yes, right now he is asking for treats.”

  
‘ _Treat! Treat? Mom! Mom Treats?_ ’

  
“He calls you mom by the way.” 

  
“Oh baby boy! We are getting him treats now.” Georgie stands up and then gestures, “can I pet you?”

  
Jon nods, and leans a little bit, which he didn't need to do but felt better than just sitting there, she pets his head, scratches behind his ears. He realizes he is purring but he thinks that it’s alright. As long as its only around the select people he likes and trusts he will just… exist. Georgie is smiling and she finally pulls her hand away. 

  
“Treats for our talking boy.” Georgie says.

  
“He is an Admiral, stop calling him a bastard.” Jon says, and the Admiral demands to be picked up. He takes the cat and follows Georgie to the kitchen. Treats are given, and the Admiral finally calms down. When they finish that Georgie starts interrogating Jon about what all he can do now, what’s changed, and the such. 

  
Soon Jon is laying down on the couch, him and the Admiral seem to have fallen into a catnap. She smiles and then Jon’s phone starts going off. Leaning over and opening it, Georgie notices its someone under the name ‘Martin.’ Jon does not look like he will wake up for the call, so she answers it.

  
“Hey Jon are you alright?” The voice is soft, but slightly worried. There are other voices on the end, two others. One is saying something suspiciously like ‘Martin’s just worried because he's in lo-’ and then the sound of a hand slapping over a mouth. 

  
“Uh, it’s Georgie, Jon’s asleep right now. He and the Admiral are taking a ‘catnap’.”

  
The man on the other end sounds a bit like he got the breath taken out of him, and then she hears a female voice go, “Take a picture and send it!”

  
Georgie snorts, “Yeah sure, I’ll tell him to call you guys back ok? And I know about the whole cat thing.”

  
A more boisterous male voice comes through, “yeah we figured. He spoke highly of you!”

  
“Well he spoke highly of you three, especially Martin.” Then she grins, “Alright bye!” Then hangs up. 

  
When Jon wakes up he calls them back, and has to leave to go to the store. He does promise both Georgie and the Admiral to see tham a little more often.

\-------

  
“Groceries.” Jon calls into the flat. He had a few bags, but he looks like he has been struggling. Sasha takes some, along with Tim, and then Martin takes the rest from Jon, which Jon is secretly very pleased about because his arms were killing him. As they put away the groceries, Jon sits up on the counter - long past talking himself away from it-- and tells them all about the visit when they ask.


	4. He Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I can't go one fanfic without making everyone hate Elias.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He chomp

Jon wriggled in his seat, feeling both restless and knowing that he needed to read a statement. He had already gone through three this week and he was going to push for more - to be more productive - but that was hard when he was always being pulled around by his coworkers. They had taken to making him leave much to early for his tastes, and if they stayed the night somewhere, everyone always found a way to make the trip longer. 

Of course the company was nice, but he felt like he wasn’t taking the job seriously enough. Jon finally gets up and stacks his papers in a neat way, neat to him at least, and went to go get something. Anything to stretch his legs at least. The latest statement had left him with a raging headache, and made him very aware of how hungry he was.

As he stepped into the breakroom, he found that all of the assistants were at their desks doing whatever they wanted to. He sighs in slight relief and stretches, rifling through the cupboards for something, before finding a cup and filling it with water. At least he could be hydrated right? Martin always stressed about them drinking regularly. 

A fun fact that Jon knew was that cats were prone to dehydration. And maybe he was too, before this whole mess. 

He wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings, so when something was on his shoulder he worked on autopilot. 

“Ow shit! Jon!” That was Tim’s voice, and Jon blinks a few times before realizing he was biting down. Hard. On Tim’s hand. He could taste blood in his mouth like coppery spit.

Jon lets go, already opening his mouth to apologize in stuttering breaths, “Tim I am so sorry, that was not something I should have done. Sorry- That was. You startled me.”

Tim looks down at his hand, and then at Jon, before shrugging, “Can’t be worse than an actual cat. Sorry boss, for startling you. But uh-” he hisses in pain, “I would like to not look like swiss cheese.”

“I won’t do that again, god, here let me…” Jon looks around and locates the first aid kit, and grabs it and walks back over. Opening it, he took out neosporin, gause, and bandages. Tim run his hand under the sink, still wincing every so often. Carefully as he could, Jon put neosporin over Tim’s wounds and hands hims the bandages. Jon didn’t quiet trust himself with those, due to his hands being shaky all the time. 

Sasha and Martin come in, and Jon gives an awkward smile, before remembering he needs to swish water in his mouth to get rid of the taste of blood. 

“Jesus christ what happened?” Sasha walks over to Tim, and he gives a thumbs up.

“Jon bit me.” Tim showed his hand to Sasha, not yet bandaged up.

The offender of said crime winces, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know I know. I startled you. Next time I’m poking you with a stick.” Tim jokes, elbowing him softly, his face showing that he really wasn’t mad. 

Jon lets out a sigh of relief, before cringes at the taste still stuck in his mouth and he swishes water in his mouth and spits it out into the sink. 

Martin looks at Tim as well, “Need help with bandages?”

“Nah I’ve got it. Nurse Jonny boy already helped with everything else.” He bandages his hand and gives a double thumbs up. “Good as new. You better not have rabies.”

“I am fairly sure I would know if I had rabies Mr. Stoker.” Jon said as primly as he could after cleaning his mouth. 

Martin chuckles, “Any vet visits lately?”

“Not lately, but I’m not foaming at the mouth yet. Tell me if you start to exhibit signs Tim.” Jon keeps his calm for about ten seconds, before smiling slightly.

“Better have your shots.” Sasha grins, after kissing Tim’s hand ‘better’ on his behest. 

Jon holds his hand up in mock defeat, “Of course I do, what do you take me for? An animal?”

Martin snorts, and Sasha is sent into gales of ugly laughter. Tim is grinning, and Jon looks very pleased with himself.

“Alright back to work.” Jon says in a false imperious tone before humming, “I’ll be going back to it at least. I hope the same for you.”

“Aye I’m injured on the job I want my financial compensation! Or a day off.” Tim waves his hand around and Sasha rolls her eyes.

“I kissed it better, cry baby.”

Jon raised an eyebrow, “If you can find a way to word ‘my boss bit me’ without getting all of us a visit from HR, in your email to Elias, then I would let you take a week off.”

Tim sighs, acting put upon, “Alright, I wont get the HR department on our asses, I could just say that I got bitten by a wild animal.”

“Uh huh, in the archives? None of us have been out on field work lately.” Martin leans against the counter, the kettle on the stove, “Not that I’m complaining! Unless you want to spend your lunch break coming up with excuses.”

“Not worth it, but I would enjoy lunch.” 

“Will you be quiet if I buy you lunch?” Jon asks, and Tim nods once, with a proud grin on his face. 

“Absolutely boss.”

Jon puts on the hat, and they all get ready to leave for lunch, before the archives door opens to Elias. Well, good mood ruined for all of them now, Jon immediately straightens up. 

“Hello Elias, is there anything I can do for you?”

Elias hums, his hands clasped together in front of him, he stands tall but not taller than Tim. The four of them watch him look curiously at them, “Did I interrupt something?”

Clearing his throat and dusting off his shirt, Jon meets Elias’s eyes, “Just going out to lunch.”

“Ah, apologies for barging in, but I need to meet with you Jon. In my office if you will.” It did not sound like a question. Jon stiffen against where he was standing close to Sasha and Martin, before nodding. 

“Of course.” He turns to the other three, “You three go on without me.”

Sasha looks at Jon, and then Elias. She was so inconspicuous about her distaste for the situation, that had Jon not known her for a while he wouldn’t have been able to tell, even if he was good at reading the emotions on people’s faces, “We can wait.”

“There will be no need.” Elias says, giving a patient smile. Martin looks both nervous and annoyed.

Then, with the grace of an actor, Martin feigns remembering something, “Either way I need to finish tea, and clean up.”

“Yeah we know how much you hate the archives being messy.” Tim says, a goodhearted smile on his face.

Jon feels a bit warmed, by them allmaking excuses not to leave without him, “Oh yes, I would prefer you did that before going out.”

Elias looks unimpressed, before seemingly letting go of whatever he wanted the other three to leave for, “Follow me.”

He nods, and follows his boss up the stairs, turning his head slightly to see Sasha, Tim, and Martin all gathered close, conspiring he thinks offhandedly, before turning his attention to the stairs, and whatever Elias wanted to speak about.

\---------

“I don’t know what is making me feel this, but I really do not like the way Elias keeps looking at Jon. Trying to get him alone. Really just freaky. I don’t like it.” Tim repeats himself, glaring hard at the door. “With the book, it’s like elias has been trying even harder to get him… I don’t even know it’s just creepy.”

Martin’s face is not one that Sasha could easily read at the moment, “I’ve talked with Georgie and she says she thnks-”

“Wait you’ve talked with her?” Tim asks, turning slightly now.

“Yes I have, she’s nice company actually, anyway, she says that Jon has told her about how weird he thinks Elias is being.” He sighs, “But we can’t do anything about that.”

Sasha puts her hand up to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose with worry, “We can’t tell him to fuck off, because he can fire us, and Jon would never be ok with us doing something stupid.”

“He does bloody well on his own thought.” Tim mutters, and Martin shoulders him lightly.

“Let’s clean up the breakroom, until he gets back ok? Talking like this is giving me the heebiejeebies.” Martin says, looking directly at a portrait of Jonah Magnus and shuddering. 

“Yeah.” Tim pauses, and lets out a groan, “Yeah fine lets do that.”

\--------

When Jon comes down the stairs, he looks both terrified and angry. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Martin is there in an instant, worrying over him. 

Jon sits up on the counter now, simply because he could, he needed to feel like he was in control of something, “He knows.”

“What?”

The other three look at him, all with varying shades of confusion and fear. Jon takes off the hat, and leans against the cupboards, “He didn’t say he knew outright, but.... He knows. I just know he does.”

“How can you tell?” Tim asks, now going to sit up on the counter with him.

Jon’s ears are flicking, “He said, ‘Tell me if there are anymore changes. With the Archives or yourself.’”

Sasha blinks a few times and then looks around the room. There are no cameras down there, they all checked, but there was no way Elias knew unless he watched them in their homes. If that was the truth, then they had a lot more to worry about than him knowing about Jon’s cat like nature now. 

Martin is clearly visible, and gets a nod of approval from Jon, and puts a hand on the stressed man’s shoulder, “It’s alright. Not like he can say anything without sounding like a real creep.”

Sasha nods, “Exactly. No one would believe him, its alright.”

Jon sighs, looking tired and put upon. Martin gives him a quick pet and Tim joins in, he seemed to calm down when people pet him, so there they were.

“Lets go for lunch alright?” Sasha says, and they all agree, and leave the institute, the feeling of being watched not sliding off their back like it usually does.


	5. In which, toebeans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for updating so weirdly. I don't have a schedule I'm just writing as many things as I can until my thinking bones give out. 
> 
> Next chapter may contain angst

“Timothy Nicholas Stoker what the hell have you been feeding me!” 

“That’s not even close to my middle name! But good guess!”

Sasha cringes at the yell, Jon was yelling, and she could hear Tim laughing and pleading for his life at the same time. Martin looks over at her with confusion written on his face and she points to the breakroom. Thankfully since they were banished to the dungeons, no one could hear Jon’s loud threats to Tim’s wellbeing, which were all slowly devolving into ‘I am going to fire you and then bite you, and then do it over again.’

Martin flinched at the sound of someone running past and slamming the breakroom door shut behind them. Tim was breathing heavily, staring at Martin and Sasha, keeping the door shut while Jon on the other side was yelling something muffled. 

“What did you do?” Martin asked, in a bit of a whisper, looking alarmed. His eyes flicker back and forth to Tim and the door that he could hear Jon slamming his fists on it. 

Tim gives a nervous smile, and through the door they could hear Jon’s offended yelling, “TEMPTATIONS CAT TREATS?”

“Tim!” Sasha looks both amased and affronted on Jon’s behalf. There is a look in her eye that told them both that she found this incredibly amusing, and would in fact like to watch how this goes down. 

Jon seems to have calmed down on the other side after a second, but Tim grins, stirring the pot as he was wont to do, before stage whispering, “And he liked them. He only found out they were cat treats because he saw the bag.”

“TIMOTHY STOKER OPEN THE DOOR.”

“Yeah I’m in the dog house, or the cat house, depends on how that situation goes.” Tim says, still holding the door closed -- it was easy for him, Jon being the smallest and least fit-- but he was going to wear down. And hell hath no wrath like Jon scorned, especially now. “I’m going to die today! Cheers! SORRY BOSS!”

Sasha snorted, “Jon don’t kill him!”

“I’m not going to.” Jon yells back, but he still does sound pouty. Then he goes quiet. 

“Oh ooh oh no. Oh fuck.” Tim says, before darting back up the stairs hoping the door doesn’t start opening and the tiny clawed man running after him, “Ciao, I’m going to get gone before he decides to claw my eyes out!” 

Martin knocks on the door gently, “Jon? You good?”

Since the door itself can’t lock, he and Sasha go into the break room, ready to deal with whatever this mess would be. Jon is sitting on the counter, legs crossed as he stares. He is holding a bag of cat treats in hand, and he waves them at Martin and Sasha.

“I’m still livid, but I will eat these. Don’t tell him.” Jon says, casually from his perch. Martin starts shaking with hidden laughter. 

Sasha grins, “I’m going to tell him that you’re threatening to shred him like a piece of bad carpet.”

Jon hums, “Given I had threatened him with that earlier, I think it’s believable. Though I should not be threatening employees, I will pretend to have no knowledge of this.” He pauses before thinking, “Tell him to get takeout and I will forgive this slight.”

“How mean.” Martin teases, before deciding to take his lunch break now. Sasha had the same Idea, as after she sent said text she took out her lunchbox from the fridge. 

She hums, taking out her cutlery from the bottom and throwing Martin her orange, “How can you stand the cat treats anyway?”

Jon shrugs, putting the bag away, “It’s like eating pretzels but they taste like fish. Not terrible.”

“‘Not terrible’ he says taking a bite.” Martin snickers, and Jon glares at him with no heat. Martin catches the orange, and give Sasha a thankful nod. 

“At least it’s not Tim’s head.” Sasha suggests, grabbing a mug and turning on the coffee pot, the caffeine fiend she is. 

Jon rolls his eyes, “I could not possibly bite his head, given how large his ego makes it.”

“Burning the man while he’s down!” She crows, smiling, before looking down as her phone buzzed in her pocket. “It’s Tim, he said he’s getting sushi.”

“Acceptable.” Jon says, turning his nose up haughtily. Martin hums, grabbing a cup of instant noodles -- they were cheap-- and filling the little container with hot water from the kettle. The breakroom goes quiet and Sasha puts on some music to make sure it doesn’t feel too spooky. It was lovely, they all think. Until Tim bursts in out of breath.

“Ok so I got you the sushi, please don’t fire me, oh grand cat boss.” Tim says, and Jon sits up straight on his counter spot. Tim hands him the bag and Jon then gives a small smile. 

“Forgiven.” 

Tim gave an award winning grin, “So you admit you like the treats.”

“Yes I suppose I did, but I will deny it at any chance I can.” Jon says, before hopping down from his spot, going to sit with the others at the table and eat like a civilized cat person. Sasha smiled and ate her spicy curry, and Tim sat down with his own takeout. Martin is the last to sit, but he is squished between Sasha and Jon, where Tim in leaning all into their personal space.

Jon and Tim started a conversation about something inane, it was more of a lecture on Jon’s end, and Tim chimed in on moments, asking questions and saying what he knew or thought about the subject. Then Jon listened to Tim talk about the process of bookbinding, something Tim had learned fro hanging with people from his old job at the publishing house. 

Sasha hummed, and Jon sat up straight, staring at the stairs and he pulls on his hat quickly, as if sensing something the others didn’t. Five seconds later a woman was brought down to the archives, by Rosie’s kind smile and gentle leading. 

“She’s here to give her statement.” 

Sasha looked up and then gave a confused smile, “Isn’t that researches job? We only take old statements, don’t we?”

Rosie then nodded, “I thought so too, but Mr. Bouchard has said that he wanted archives to take live statements from now on. I don’t understand it either, but I just did as told.”

The woman looks around, and shrinks a little seeing them all seemingly busy, but Jon blinks and stands up, “Of course, did he say anything else?”

“Just that the Head Archivist would be taking the live statements.” Rosie repeats the exact wording, mimicking Elias’s uptight businessman voice, and Sasha snorts. 

Jon nods, hiding his displeasure at not being told this the moment Elias decided it surprisingly well, “Ok, thank you Rosie, I’m sure we can handle it from here.”

“Gotcha! I’m back up.”

Tim gives a flirtatious wink, “Wish you could stay longer.”

Rosie rolls her eyes, since this was their sort of friendship, Tim flirted and she found it hilarious. Sasha and Martin waved at her from their seats. As she leaves the statement giver behind, Jon steps up.

“Hello, I’m Jonathan Sims, right this way.” He was brusqe, but in a different way than he was before. Usually tearing down statements, until the leitner came and changed everything. Now he was keeping himself as neutral as possible to not show any signs of something being just a smidge off about him. Martin puts away Jon’s sushi into the fridge, and Sasha watched as Jon brought the statement giver to his office. 

“So. Why in the world would old creeper doubleboss have Jon taking statements. He isn’t the most polite person to tell your story to.” Tim says, keeping his voice quiet, “I don’t like it.”

“I mean I’ve never liked Elias, but I thought he was just sexist not creepy.” Sasha takes a bite of her curry.

Martin sighs, “He acts like he knows way more than he should.”

“Creepy looking stalker boy.” Tim says grinning.

“We bullying our boss, what about his secret cameras?” Sasha said, glaring directly at the portrait, “I bet its hidden in that things creepy old eyes.”

“He cares way too much, I bet youre right.”

Martin blanches, “I hate this conversation, it makes me feel very uncomfy.”

“Do you think-” Martin slaps a hand over Tim’s mouth.

“-Do not finish that sentence I swear to god.”

Tim holds his hands up in defeat, and Martin takes his hands back with a glare, “I’m shutting up I’m shutting up.”

“Thank you.” Martin said, and glared down at Sasha as she was about to say something too, “No! You both are menaces.”

“And you’re being loud.”

“Jesus christ! Mr. Bouchard?” Martin turned and Sasha looks smug. That’s what she was going to say to him, jeez. “Sorry sir.”

Elias looks over the three of them, “It’s quite alright, but do keep it down. I came down to tell everyone about this new decision. But now I see theres already a statement giver here.”

The three of them nod, and watch as he leaves now, “God that was horrifying.”

“Why do I feel like he heard us?” Tim says, glaring at the door that is now shut. Elias left but good god that was the scariest moment of their lives. Poor Martin was still suffering from heart failure. Sasha takes a bite of her curry now staring at the door as well. 

\-------

When Naomi leaves, Jon stays in his office the rest of the day. He only comes out an hour after they were supposed to leave looking worn out from the day. That day they head over to Sasha’s flat, Jon doesn’t say much on the train, only tapping away at his laptop looking exhausted. 

He falls asleep as soon as he sits on the couch with Sasha. Martin comes in and leaves the mug of tea he had made for said sleeping man on the coffee table. Sasha scoots over, giving Martin a look, “get this man a blanket.”

“I am not your maid.” He said, as he went to go grab the deep green blanket that Jon had brought over to Sasha’s flat and forgot there, laying it over him. 

“I do not know about you two, but after the heart attack at lunch, I’m exhausted.”

“Ditto.” Tim called, and then flopped onto the couch, which woke up Jon, who glared blearily, “Sorry. I’m just stepping all over the toebeans today.”

“Be quiet I’m trying to sleep.” Sasha wacked him over the head with a couch pillow.


	6. Jane Prentiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLOT???? IN MY CATBOY JON FANFIC? more likely than you think!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for this chapter:
> 
> -Depictions of Jane Prentiss (Nasty)  
> \- Canon typical corruption shit  
> \- Tagging just because but sort of self harm? (He doesn't do it to hurt himself)  
> \- lots of gore (sorry i love the corruption and gross stuff)
> 
> If you want to skip this chapter i can give a lowdown at the bottom note!

Reading statements too a lot out of Jon, he realized, after downing his second Advil that day. Maybe it was stress, but he couldn’t help but bristle at the statements, the ones that wouldn’t record. This one was from a man named ‘Carlos Vittery’ and a spider in his flat. He wonders, briefly and a little worriedly, what kind of follow-up they should have someone do. 

  
  


Then he gets angry that they have to follow up on statements, they should send any without proper backing to research and have them deal with it. 

  
  


And yet. He still wanted to know more. 

  
  


There are little follow-up that could be done, and he still wished he could hide under skepticism, so he turns off the tape recorder and glares at the paper still. They needed better knowledge, if he wanted to be a good Archivist he would know more- and why did that thought feel so out of place in his mind?

  
  


Jon always chased praise, he needed to be worth something, and maybe that wasn’t healthy.

  
  


He thinks about who to send on this one, and then suddenly feels his fight or flight kick in. He glares down at the words, even as it is hard to read them while his heart was beating so fast. So maybe he would not be sending anyone out on this case, they had enough knowledge about it (-and yet he needed  _ more, he had to know he had to know _ -).

  
  


Martin was good with spiders right? 

  
  
  


\--------

  
  
  


So maybe Jon felt like he didn’t want his friend (- was Martin truly that- he wanted- No.) going out on the statement alone. It just felt wrong to do so, and Jon just didn't like the idea of something going wrong and him not being there. He would much prefer knowing what the danger was. So here he was trudging along with Martin to Carlos Vittery’s flat, Martin talking about something that Jon wished he could hear over the sound of his paranoia. 

  
  


When they get there, Jon can smell something off about the place, something that just didn’t sit right. Yes the man had been incased in spider’s web but this was a different smell, not of tiny spiders or of cobwebs, but like dirt, rotting and coarse dirt, the unpleasant kind. 

  
  


The building is tall and wide, just a few flats altogether. They needed to be buzzed up if they wanted to actually get anything, or start knocking on doors, but they didn’t have the clearance for that. 

  
  


As they are unable to speak to any of the other residents, they decide-- more like Martin decides -- that they should break into the basement and go through there, due diligence and all. Jon hated to hear those words, them being from his earlier stint as a jerk to all of his now friends. (friends he loved that-  _ he had people a pack-) _

  
  


The basement is rank, and Jon really had to debate himself to get himself to go in through the open window. He wriggles and lands on his feet before the dirt smell from earlier hits his nose. Now thought it smells like rot and decay. He turns as he hears Martin yelp in pain. Quickly he sees that there is a woman in the corner, not facing them.

  
  


She turns and they see her face, what was left of it, worms were crawling in and out and in and about, her skin help a rigor mortis coloring to it, yet she was pale and greying as she shambled closer. 

  
  


“Do. you… hear. their . Song?” She says, limping closer like a grotesque zombie from a movie that Tim wanted them to watch. Jon’s ears perk up and he feels terrified, before he feels the urge to pounce. Instead he turns and ushers Martin out of the window, feeling something gnawing at his ankles, chewing and biting and worming it’s way in. Crawling up like bile in his throat.

  
  


Martin cursed, looking back with a worried face, “I dropped my phone.”

  
  


“It’s fine, just run!” Jon says, gritting his teeth and turning to snarl at the worm lady. He remembers her name, Jane Prentiss. She killed people. She turned them into worm food, she who rots and drags and burrows. “Stay away from my people!”

  
  


Martin pulls him with him, “Jon don’t be stupid! She will kill you, lets go!”

  
  


Jon remembers that fact, and lets out one last hiss at the shuddering figure, what once was a woman who feared. Jane stares with eyes that are not there, and she smiles, teeth blackened and crusted with blood as worms crawl through the spaces that used to hold teeth. Martin pulls his arm again and they start running. 

  
  


He was faster than Martin, and kept getting ahead and then zooming back to snarl behind them at a threat that is not there, before zooming ahead. Martin is thankful that Jon was trying to look after him but he could do without the worry of Jon trying to fight a literal ball of worms and teeth.

  
  


They collapse in Martin’s flat, before realizing Sasha and Tim are on the couch watching them confused and shocked. 

  
  


“Jane Prentiss- worms- shit!” Martin slams the door, shoving a coat into the crack under the door and sitting down again, the bites started to get to him and making him dizzy, and Jon is already clawing out the worms that worked their way into his skin in a way that is both killing the worms and accidentally hurting himself.

  
  


After he viciously sees to himself, and carefully takes the worms from Martin’s legs as Sasha and Tim run to grab a first aid kit. Sasha pulls Jon away from his task, letting Tim use the corkscrew Martin had ordered him to get from the kitchen and pull out the rest of the bloody things. She starts to clean his wounds, and Jon finally feels the bloodloss and goes blank, collapsing the rest of the way onto the floor. 

  
  


Sasha swears under her breath as one worm that jon had forgotten started trying to burrowin into her collarbone, before she tears it out and squishes it between her fingers, “Ok. That’s all of them. I checked before badaging him up.”

  
  


Martin lets Tim clean him up, bandaging whatever else he had. Still there was a lasting paranoia that there was still one in him, that he would end up like Jane Prentiss. 

  
  


They get only a few minutes of respite, Tim moving Jon to the couch, Sasha helping stabalize Martin enough for him to walk, they hear it. 

  
  


The knocking begins. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TLDR; Jon and Martin go to investigate carlos vittery, they meet jane prentiss and get wormed, but they're ok. They end up meetin tim and Sasha in Martin's flat and all four of them are stuck there bc Jane followed them.


	7. Two Weeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: 
> 
> -anxiety  
> \- communication but its kind of ok  
> \- Mentions of death, joking about death  
> \- Quite a bit of swearing but that's just who I am as a person

After cleaning up everything they could, and covering the vents, they felt a little bit safer than they did before. The knocking came in intervals, every hour she would stop and then start up again, and while they all waited in terrified anticipation, there wasn’t much they could do. Who could they even call?

Jon woke up to the sound of his phone chiming, the vibrations waking him up. He still felt woozy and unwell but now he was bandaged up and laying on the couch. Tim and Sasha were on the floor playing cards, but it was mostly quiet. As if they were scared that making noise would attract more worms.

He looks at his phone message, three from Martin.

“Martin you said you dropped your phone in the basement right?” jon asked, staring at the notifications in slight horror. Martin jumps as is Jon had just verbally assaulted him, and turns. Tim and Sasha look surprised too, since he had been a bit loud. He cleaners his throat self consciously, “Well, I have three messages. From your phone.”

“What?” Martin walks over and sits on the couch next to him, looking over his shoulder at the phone screen. Jon stares at it, eyes going wide. Martin can see his pupils going slit-like, and is a bit worried. 

Jon then opens the text, finally. Tim and Sasha were staring at them, but not moving from their spot on the floor. 

‘Archivist your fate will be sealed in red.’ 

Martin’s eyes go wide, “what the hell does that mean.”

“I… I don’t know.”

‘Your family will not be safe, I will get you, get them. They will hear the song.’

Tim finally stands up glaring at the door, anger set in his gaze as his voice gets bit aggressive, “What do the texts say?”

Jon and Martin flinch, and Tim frowns, “Sorry. Give me the phone.”

Sasha stands up as well, as Jon hands the phone over to Tim. They both look at the two messages, and then Sasha gasps at the third, “Your door won’t hold forever, neither will your rebellion.”

The knocking starts up again, and this time they leave the cards abandoned on the floor. The couch can fit all four of them, as they huddle close and keep an eye on the door. Jon is squished between Tim and Martin and he feels anxiety rushing up in his spine. His hair is on end, and he feels restless. There is a hand petting his head, and he simply waits now. 

Sleep didn’t come easy to any of them, not with the knocking, a consistant thing. AS soon as one of them thinks that maybe they will nod off, there is a sharp sound of knuckles rapping against wood, and they are all on edge again. 

Martin hisses as Sasha accidentally knees his ankles -- still in pain from worming-- and then Tim gets aggravated at the silence. It’s like they are unable to sit still, unable to be comfortable with something supernatural sits at their door. And jon feels a sinking realization that there is something supernatural sitting in ther lap- him. 

\---------

It is the next day that they all realize that there is something else that makes this situation dire. Food.

Or the lack of it. 

Of course they had groceries from when they last stayed at Martin’s house, but not enough to feed four people for a forseeable future, and they couldn’t hope for the best- they had to pla for the worst case scenario. Rationing had been something Martin was good at, able to make the math work in his head, and Tim started taking stock on a notepad that Sasha had brought and left on the kitchen counter.

“Why the fuck do you have so many canned peaches!” Tim says, looking both astounded and teasing, and Martin scratches his head looking a smidge shy.

“Well I was saving it to make cake or jello, but you know I never got around to it and canned food doesn’t spoil.” Sasha snickers, and Jon smiles from his place on the counter. Martin glares at the both of them, while Tim is counting cans and writing them down. 

Jon starts looking through cabinets to help, but Martin doesn’t stack on snack food, it was too expensive and they dont usually go to his house if they are too tired to cook. He does find a few bags of cat treats which he secretly is happy that they have, he doesn’t want to eat food that the othrs could have- so it was good.

Tim is opening his mouth to say something smart ass, before the knocking starts up again leaving the room drained of any comfortable energy they had built up. The room is somber, and even Sasha is trying not to look up from the counter. They are all hungry and tired, unable to relax or go to sleep. 

The sound of Tim writing things down and then doing the math for it on paper was the only sound they heard. Sasha looked over to check what they had and Martin was going through and checking the vent coverings again. At least it wasn’t freezing, and the power was still working. They had all felt vague relief that martin had paid the bill only a few days ago, meaning that if they were stuck at least they had water and heatin, however jacked up the heating system may be. 

When the kocking stops this time, Jon looks over, “We have three bags of those cat treats you stock up on, fourteen cans of peaches, seven microwave meals, one gallon of milk and two boxes of cereal.”

Tim adds those all to the list, and then he puts the pen down, “God I can’t stand it.”

Martin gives a disbelieving laugh, “Neither can I.”

Sasha looks at them, “usually I love when we all fight, but now is not the time to be smart asses. Why don’t we watch something on Tim’s phone and then we can eat something ok?”

Jon nods, Martin and Tim apologize to each other. They try and watch a show.

Tim opens up a can of peached for them to share, and Jon shakes his head even though he is starving, “Prevents scurvy.”

Martin snorts, “I thought that was citrus?”

“What.” Tim whips out his phone, “Oh damn. It is citrus.”

Sasha rolls her eyes, “Sadly we don’t have any oranges here, suppose we’ll all die of scurvy like pirates.”

“Socially obigated to call myself a bi-rate.” Tim says, winking to an audience that isn’t there. 

Martin does have to scrounge for a can opener, finding one in the bottom of his junk drawer - which only had scissors and a few zipties along with the can opener.

“Oh my god imagine how fucked we would be if there wasn’t a can opener.” Sasha says, and Jon lets out an undignified snort, and Martin then waves he can opener at both of them like a martinet.

Tim chuckles, “We’d have to shotgun it obviously.”

“Eugh that reminds me of uni.” Jon makes a disgruntled face, and Tim gives a fake eyebrow raise.

“You had a wild side? I thought you were made in a lab and then in a room to eat ritz crackers for 30 something years before you showed up.” Sasha grins and Jon smacks her with his tail, she groans and start trying to spit the fur that got into her mouth out. Jon: 1 Sasha: 0.

Martin did worry though, as he watched Jon looking at the door as he refused to eat the shared can of peaches. He then remembers a bit horrified, that Jon is an obligate carnivore.

\---------

“I am bored.” Sasha announces after the third day of nothing but rhythmic knocks. Their phones ad died, and they both realized that the chargers were at the institute, leaving them more screwed than before. The last message they sent was to the police, and they don’t think that one went through.

“Have you tried taking up knocking, it seems Ms. Prentiss outside never gets bored of it.” Jon muttered from his spot of the ratty armchair, curled in what seems to be Martin’s sweater. 

Tim snorts loudly like a child, “Martin seems to be fine.”

“I am stress knitting, and if you dont shut up I’ll knit a bag to go over your head.” Martin says haughtitily, to which Jon has a coughing fit that sounds suspiciously like giggles. 

“You are so mean to me.” Tim pouts, before grinning, “ So gang how do we feel about a card game? Do you still have my Cards Against Humanity set?”

Martin hums, finishing a row, “No you left those at Sasha’s.”

“Damn. Rummy sound good to anyone?” Tim says, now hanging upside down from the couch. 

\-------

It’s the first time Martin and Sasha had gotten sleep, Jon and Tim were still unable to sleep and Tim looks over, “20 questions?”

“How do you still joke through this?” Jon asks, staring at the door, ears perked up to listen to the sound of worms outside the door. 

Tim sighs, going limp onto the couch, “It’s the only way to keep myself from getting mad.”

Jon blinks a few times, and then nods, “I get that. I do the same.”

“Oh yes because you are a barrel of laughs boss.” Tim says, and Jon rolls his eyes at him, and Tim gives a weak smile, he didn’t mean to be so rude, and they would work on it one day. If they survived this.

“I acted like a sceptic becasue I was scared, same principle.” 

Tim yawns, stretching widely, before knocking made him cring back, Jon flinched violently at the noise, “Yeah. Same principle.”

As they both watch the door Tim asks, “Why are you always up? I’ve only seen you cat nap a few times.”

Jon is still staring, still alert, “I can hear them.”

“What?” Tim startled slightly, finally breaking his staring contest with the door, looking at Jon with a worried face. Did Jon hear-?

“I can hear them outside the door, as they move. They sing.” He shudders slightly and Tim can see the bags under his eyes, deeper than before, ones that he knew were on his face as well. Jon lets out a confused noise had Tim sits down next to him.

Tim carefully hugs him, and Jon seems to melt slightly. Tim pets his head, trying to distract from the noises of worms outside the door. They stay there for a while, until the knocking subsidies and they fall asleep there.

\------

Martin and Sasha don’t wake up the sleeping pair, since they both know neither of them have gotten any sleep. They instead slip away to the small attached kitchen and quietly talk through their peaceful moments. The knocking starts and stops, goes and quits in intervals. Martin vaguely wonders if anyone noticed they had gone missing.

Probably only Elias had. None of them had family they could turn to. None that would miss them. 

“Do you think they’re looking for us?” Sasha asks quietly, her words barely reaching his ears.

Martin wants to say yes, but he had tried not to lie to them, “Maybe.”

“If we ever get out of here, we should all move in together.” She says now, reminiscing on a time that might not exist, and Martin nods.

“We could all buy a house. Flat might be too small.” The flats were always a little cramped, no matter how nice some of theirs was. He feels warm now, that at least he had this family. They were all loved, he’s glad of it.

Sasha nods, “we’d need an office, for Jon.”

“Of course, and a small nook for you to read in.” Martin feels how empty his stomach is, and prays that it stays quiet, or maybe that it’ll go away.

“We could use the extra room as a workout room for Tim.” She smiles, and they both feel a bit content, they are just some friends trying not to wake up the ones they love, talking fluff about the future through the hard times. They can pretend that it’s not something supernatural, but just a snowed in front door.

Martin smiles too, wishing he had tea. He would make some but they never knew if they would run out of water, “Yes with you and Tim sharing an incredibly chaotic room.”

“Oh it will be so messy.” She snorts, “We could have a garden, I know you want to start that up.”

“Guilty as charged. It would be nice, to have homegrown tea, homegrown flowers and food.”

Sasha looks dreamily at the sad curtain covered window, “Yeah. Save up money since bills would be cheaper with four people. Then we could all retire.”

“All four of us having a bonfire outside.”

“Tim would love that.”

Martin nods, “Yeah. He would.”

They go quiet as knocking starts up. Sasha is glad they were all stuck together, she wouldn’t know what to do if only one of them got trapped. This would be worse alone. Martin is happy he and Sasha are friends, glad he has someone to be a dreamer with. They wait until the other two wake up to warm up a microwave meal.

Martin still worries about how little Sasha and Jon eat.

\-------------------

“If I eat another canned peach I will wretch.” Tim throws his fork at the wall, and Sasha shares the sentiment. Jon had crunched down on cat treats, rationing them well enough that he hadn’t even gone through the first bag.

“I think we’re all dehydrated as hell too.” Martin says, glaring down at the gelantinous peach juice in the can, “eugh.”

Jon scrunches his face, “And I will stay that way. I think I hate the smell of peaches.”

“And I hate the sound of cans opening.” Sasha wants to chunk the can at the door, “Reminds me of eating slimy worms.”

“Ew Sasha now you’re making me think about eating worms please refrain from speaking.” Jon says, and Tim holds up the can as if about to cheers.

He looks at the can, “Do you think I should chug it?”

“I bet you ten quid you wont.”

“Sasha!” The sound of slurping, “Tim Stoker!”

\----------

Martin stares at the wall and clicks his pen, before realizing it has a laser on the end. Oh this was going to be so fun. He starts moving the red dot all over the room until he sees Jon zeroing in on it. He is staring with wide eyes, as if he wanted very badly to go chasing aftr it. Martin bites his lip to try and keep from laughing. 

“Hey wait, Martin!” Jon looks up and pouts, and Martin finally just laughs. Sasha and Tim break into hysterical giggles, and Jon decides - fuck it- he might as well chase the little dot.

“I’m so mad my phone is dead.” Tim says between the laughter, wiping tears from his eyes. 

Jon turns around and gives an unimpressed face, “How terrible for you.”

\---------

“Do you guys think we could ambush Jane? Like, I don’t know, take a baseball bat to her head or something?” Tim says, glaring at the door. He feels stir crazy and very aggressive this morning. 

Jon hums, “If she didn't have millions of worm living inside her I’d say we have a bit of a chance.”

“What I’m hearing is sarcasm.”

“I’m shocked and appalled. I am obviously being very serious.”

Martin laughs silently, too exhausted to actually let out the noise, “So very serious.”

Sasha snickers, and Tim sighs and rolls his eyes, “Ye of little faith.”

\---------

Jon’s head perks up immediately, eyes staring at the door, “I can’t hear them.”

“What do you mean?” Martin asks at the same time Tim says, “Don’t you fucking joke with me like that.”

“I am being dead serious. Ah. No joke intended.” Jon stares at the door, pupils wide in excitement, “The song is gone. I can’t hear them squirming.”

Sasha blinks and leans against the door cautiously, with her ears strained to hear anything. Silence. How long had it been since the knocking died down? The four of them feel tentative hope, after two weeks of radio silence, and the rhythmic clockwork tapping at the door. Food was getting harder to ration. Jon looks at them.

“We have to leave now.” He says, a manic look in his eyes, “She might come back.”

“Agreed. Lets get the fuck out of here.” Sasha says, throwing on her shoes, still cuddled in a too large cardigan. The other three get up and get ready quickly, only grabbing their phones and wallet, getting shoes on before they stare at the door, all to scared to risk the idea that Jon could be wrong. Jon shoves his hat on.

Martin looks shaky, “I don’t want to open it. Is that weird?”

“Nope.” Tim says, before he opens the door a crack, looking out to see the walkway clear of worm women, “Coast is clear.”

“We could tell from your lack of pained screaming.” Jon deadpans, before Tim throws open the door and they all get out of there, dashing as fast as possible to the institute. 

They get to the institute safely, but they are all on edge as Elias Bouchard meets them in the lobby.


	8. Isn't this a coincidence?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peep how many Elias level shit ball dialogues I can fit into one chapter

Jon feels immediately on edge, staring at Elias. Something is wrong. Its like the sound of worms, but now he can smell something strange, something wrong. Still, even if his hair was on edge, he still waited until Elias spoke. Martin, Tim, and Sasha were all behind him, and he silently wishes he could hiss at the unseen threat. 

“Ah. Archives… and co.” Elias says, as if he was surprised to see them there, “Were have you all been?”

Tim goes to answer, but then is cut off by the man raising his hand up, “Never mind, we can discuss your absence in my office, we are attracting a good deal of attention out here. Follow me.”

Jon wants to, again, hiss at the man for even daring to be so rude, before the rational part of his brain starts making excuses, explaining the strangeness away. He didn’t know they were trapped, from his perspective he had seen his missing staff in the lobby looking like a mess. Yes, he was just being irrational.

The looks the other three were sharing made him second guess his feeling. They looked like they too did not think this was normal. They thought he would fire them, or get angry make an example of them in front of others.

Sasha puts her hand over his, where he was absently trying to calm himself down, flexing his nails slightly into his skin. When they finally reach his office, he closes the door and then gestures for them to sit. Why are there more chairs than usual? That makes Jon stare hard at the room, almost moving into glaring territory. He wanted to know why Elias was making him so uncomfortable.

Elias only sits down once they do, gesturing at them to speak, “Now I would like to hear why you were all absent for two weeks.”

It was less a question, and more of a command, Sasha goes to answer, “We were trapped in Martin’s flat by Jane Prentiss, the woman is the statement about the wasp nest.”

“Ah, and do you have proof of this claim?” He says, a bit more interested now, leaning slightly onto his desk. His eyes wandered to Jon and then to Martin, then to Sasha and finally to Tim.

Tim looks a bit red in the face, trying to calm down his temper, “Sasha, Martin, and Jon all have the scars to prove it. Is that enough proof? Or maybe the worm guts on the flat floor, let me go scrape those for you.”

Martin puts a hand on Tim’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. Sasha leans slightly into him. Jon wants to shrink away, or ask a question that he didn’t even know. 

“No need to be hostile Mr. Stoker, I am just asking that my employees don’t disappear, though I suppose there was nothing you three could have done.” He says, and now Martin picks up on something that made him feeling a bit ‘hostile’ too.

“No one could have done anything.” He said, staring at Elias with some small defiance. 

Elias hums giving a nod that said he didn’t believe it, “Well if you don't mind my curiosity, I would like to see what these worms can do.”

Jon and Martin shuddered, phantom pains in the now healing over scabs. They had almost forgotten about them, except for the times that they would hiss in pain and take a painkiller. Sasha’s hand went up to her collarbone, as if to protect the scabbed over wound. Tim still glared, but held his tongue.

Finally Jon cleared his throat, “Is that necessary Mr. Bouchard? We should not have to show our ah. Injuries for you to believe us. We work at a place that catalogues the supernatural.”

“Yes we do.” Elias says, his eyes looking down at the visible bandages, then at Jon’s hat, “I thought you didn’t believe in all of this.”

“I’d be a fool to not think it’s real, after this.” Jon says, a hand creeping up to tap at his chest. Sasha wants to hold him in safety.

Elias looks at the four of them, and there is a flash of distaste in his eyes. He seems displeased with something, but they had nothing to prove, nothing that would make them distasteful. Then he puts on a fake pleasant face, “Well then. I suppose that will be all. But you missed performance reviews, so wait outside and I will get to those.”

\----------

Tim had come out angry, but he fumed silently. They worried about him, his built up frustration needed to be dealt with in a healthy way. The other issue is that right after coming out, instead of being able to wait for each other, Elias had said, “You needn’t be attached at the hip, I’m sure you can all handle yourselves. Someone needs help in the breakroom Tim.”

When Sasha had come out he sent her down to fix up some paperwork with Rosie. She seemed just as disgruntled as Tim, but at least had some of her wit to try and fake a smile. Though his backhanded compliments had only made her want to reach over the smack the shit out of his stupid face. Instead she walked away, to where Rosie was waiting for her.

Martin had come out of the office pale and uncomfortable looking. It was like he had seen a ghost. Jon watched as he was sent back down to the archives to find a file Elias wanted. 

Jon was not excited for his turn, the skin on his arms prickled as he once again sat down, reminded vividly of all the times he was in police custody from wandering off, or getting in trouble with the principal. Elias carefully smiled and then turned to tell Jon about his ‘progress’ or something that made little sense. The way he spoke was like he was trying to make Jon feel stupid, and then Elias clears his throat.

“Anyway, I do hope any ‘changes’ have not impeded on the Archives progress?” Elias stares at him with eyes that are just slightly too yellow, his smile just this side of creepy. Jon felt like he was being watched from all angles. 

“Us being gone those two weeks will not intrude further.” Jon says stiffly, feeling uncomfortable and hating sitting on his tail in this position. That along with the slight discomfort of day too old bandages on irritated skin made him feel jumpy. 

Elias raises a brow, “You know that's not what I mean.”

Jon goes cold, heart stuttering for a second. He remember their earlier conversation, he knows. He knows.

“I want to make sure that you still have enough human sense to be of any use to the institute. I don’t let wild animals roam.” Elias says, “I’m not stupid, and I was hoping you weren’t either.”

He nods dumbly and felt tired, “I’m not. I assure you that I am still of sound mind.” 

In his heart he feels despair grow.

\---------

Jon goes back to his office, and sees that Sasha, Martin and Tim are sitting there. They look up at him, all feeling vaguely disgusted and feeling watched. Jon wants to tell them to get out, tell them that they need to work. That he has to be useful. Yet he can’t bring himself to move his mouth, and they all sit in his office and take what comfort they can before they break apart like it never happened. 

At lunch Sasha finds her favorite coffee on the table, Martin sees a new box of his favorite tea, Tim finds warm takeout with his name on it.

And maybe Jon sees a heating pad in his chair when he comes back from these errands, and a loving note signed in new glittery pen.

\-------

“Hey Jon?”

“Yes Martin?” Jon looked up to the the three archival assistants, and he cocks his head to the side. Sasha is holding her laptop, and Tim is looking proud of himself. Martin is holding Jon’s coat in his arms, and Jon feels a bit happy that he thought of him, “Whats up?”

“We have an appointment with a realtor.”

Jon looks at them and feels a bright hope in his chest, something that he thinks Georgie would call affection welling in his chest, “Are we moving in together?”

Tim grins, Sasha turns her laptop to show him the agency they called, and Martin looked so happy. It wasn’t anything too special, but he idea of finding a house with the people he loved, the ones who he called family, it was appealing.

“Alright, lets meet with Ms. Richardson, we might find a nice place. How does homecooked curry sound?” He gets up away from his desk, leaving behind a pile of statements about a man, or person, thing named Michael.


	9. That which Twists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter:
> 
> \- Dumbasses can't communicate  
> \- Michael typical shenangians.

After everyone’s gotten dressed they think about what they should do before meeting a real estate agent.

“Should we wear nicer clothes?” Martin wonders, Jon is fiddling with the belt on his skirt with an annoyed flick of his ears. 

Tim looks at his clothes, “Nah we should be fine. Unless she discriminates against sexy people.”

“You should be perfectly fine if she does.” Jon says deadpan, and Tim flips him off. 

Sasha is cuffing her jeans, “As long as she’s not a tory then yeah, we will be fine.”

“Why would you speak that into the world!” Martin says, gently smacking her on the arm, she snorts and Tim over exaggeratedly knocks on wood. The sound of knowing made them all freeze, even Tim and he was the one who made the noise.

He carefully takes his hand back, “Damn ok. Not doing that again.”

Martin stares, before shaking himself, “Add that to the list.”

The list in question was a list of things that immediately freaked them out, they kept it carefully updated, and Jon writes it down in his notes. They have little sticky notes around the office with little missives to outsiders such as, “Please call the Archives before coming in.” Or maybe, “Don’t knock it startles the assistants.” and the one that made Jon feel both silly and incredibly amusing, “If you see a spider, either kill it or show it outside. Arachnids are not allowed.” And the new gift to the HR department which consisted of everything that smelled like peach that had been in the Archives. 

Sasha hums, “Anyway! Lets get past that and get there early.”

“Imagine being early. Responsible humans.” Tim says before Sasha rolls her eyes at him. 

“You have literally never been late to important things. Quit trying to act cool you nerd.” 

Jon smiles slightly, pulling on his hat and some gloves, “Are we going now? Or do you two want to bicker until they cancel our appointment?”

“Horrible bastard catman we’re going.” Tim says, wrapping a scarf around his neck, “We’re so lucky that this wasn’t a work day.”

“I imagine the lecture from Elias for taking a day off- ‘No need to be attached at the hip, here leave your friends alone with me and watch me speedrun traumatizing them.’ Jerk.” Martin muttered, and Tim nods as if he had gave sage advice instead of mocking their boss.

Jon rolls his eyes, “Come on before I leave you.”

“You need us to communicate for you.” Sasha grins, “Or our new realtor might be interested in seeing pictures of our ‘cat.’”

“You never quit.” Jon huffs, before Martin opens the door for everyone.

\----------

Ms. Richardson seems like a lovely lady, with a very easy fake smile on her face. The four of them look like a ragtag bunch, and she leads them as if four people wanting a house was normal. She was used to parents with kids, or maybe young couples. They are neither of things. She goes through four bedroom houses, showing them large yards and subtly mentioning children.

They seem to find one that they all like, it’s a tad bit in disrepair but they were all eyeing it, a three bedroom two bathroom house, it seemed like it could hold their eccentricities well enough. It had green walls, and had the ugliest floral decal’s in one room that Martin adored. Sasha found that the ‘parent’ bedroom would fit her desk and Tim’s favorite horrible paintings. Jon kept looking out at the yard, before seeing built in bookshelves in a room that drew him in. 

They were so taken by the house that they all gave each other a look and they knew it was perfect. Of course they would have to work on some of it, as you had to do with some houses, and they all agree that it’s worth it without even saying a word.

The realtor, “Call me Helen,” had still went to show them the last house, just in case. And they found that there was an extra door.

It’s a neon yellow that clashes with the dull coloring of the house, the carvings in the door seem to move like fractals of stained glass, creating a beautiful mural that seems to call to those who looked at it. Before they swear that it had just been ornate, but now it looks normal. 

Something screams in Jon’s gut, as Helen gives a confused smile and leads them to the yellow door, as if nothing was wrong, as if she had gone through it thousands of time’s showing it off. Tim and Sasha are cautiously following before the door seems to spin, Jon can see figures in it, twisting changing and moving, and he hisses. Pulling both of them out of the way of the door before it slams shut.

Well. Shit.

The four of them watch as the door Helen Richardson went through disappeared as if never there at all, leaving their heads spinning with ringing that sounds a bit like laughter.

\-------

They don’t know what exactly to do, until Helen comes into the archives two weeks later. Side note to that is that they bought the house, and were in the process of moving into it. There was a little place sectioned off in the living room for a bit too large of a cat tower.

Sasha doubletakes first seeing Helen scrambling to write something down down, she startles as Sasha carefully tried to lead her to the Head Archivists office, collecting the attention of Martin and Tim. They wonder what happened, staring at Helen and Sasha before Helen finally takes in the fact that she knows them.

“You!” She starts looking around, “You three- you were there- the door that wasn’t-” She starbles scribbling on the paper again, “How did you four- I thought. It makes no sense!”

Jon’s office door opens and he peaks his head out, with his hat on a bit askew, “What seems to be the problem- oh.”

Helen looks at them, “I’m here to give m statement.”

Jon nods, and looks at the three of them. Martin stands up to make tea for her, and Tim carefully takes the pen, which was now running dry, all it’s ink used on the paper that looked like an impossible map. Sasha leads Helen into the Head Archivist’s office and Jon takes it from there. 

“Ok Helen, you’ll just speak like you’re telling me your statement, into this tape recorder. Then I can transcribe it, unless you would rather write it yourself.” Jon was mentally patting himself on the back for not sounding like he despises the idea of taking a statement, and yet can’t help hoping to hear it. Helen nods.

“I- I can tell it.”

“Of course, your choice.” He clicks on the tape recorder, “Would you prefer I leave for this? I know it’s rather personal sometimes.”

Helen shakes her head, “You’re real. You… I know you sort of. You’re a person.”

Jon carefully nods, silently relieved someone thinks so, “Yes I am real.”

He does not flinch when she touches his hand, looking relieved that he is flesh and bone, “Thank you.”

“So how this goes, “Statement of Helen Richardson, regarding…” He gestures for her to finish the statement for him.

“The door that didn’t exist and the impossible halls.” She takes a breath and he tries to give an encouraging face, before she starts to tell the story.

When she finishes her statement, Martin knocks on the door and peeks in, “Tea?”

Helen nods, Jon smiles slightly, nodding as well.

“I believe you Helen, I can try and dig up anything that has to do with statements like this and lend to give advice. I also recommend taking the doors out of your house.” He says, thinking about way to help her. A few seconds mater the door opens and Martin has two mugs of tea, handing them each to them. Jon controls his purring and Martin keeps the door open.

Tim looks over from his desk, seeing Jon and Helen, “You can stay for a while and get your bearings, have you do some paperwork about the statement or just hang around for comfort.”

Jon is immediately proud of his (-pack, his people, the ones he loves-) friends and their careful kindness, since he is very not used to being able to read things, or be anything but blunt. Helen nods, sitting down at a chair that Sasha dragged out of the breakroom. Then they go along as normal, minus Jon catting, until Helen speaks again.

“Thank you- I. I had thought you four weren’t real, in the hallways. Everything was distorted.”

Sasha nods, “No problem. We all deserve people when we go through something like that.” This seems a little pointed, at Jon, at the other three, at herself.

Helen nods, “I should probably go home, take the doors off the hinges.”

“Be careful.” Martin says, taking the now empty mug from her gently.

Jon hums looking around, “You can call the Archives, if you see anything else.”

As Helen leaves up the stairs they hear a chuckling behind them. Jon whips around, hat flying off his head and Tim jumps up into fighting stance. There, standing tall in front of a yellow door was a straw blond man, giggling. 

“You are very different.” His voice hurts their ears, and Jon flinches, the being takes in their appearances and laugh again, headache inducing and rolling like boiling butter down their backs. 

“You’re Michael.” Sasha says, staring at him, “From the statements. The hallway guy.”

Michael hums, high pitched and uncomfortable, “Maybe I am. A name cannot be given to something nameless, just a title to add to the piles. I am the Distortion.”

Martin glares, looking as hostile as he does around Elias, “Why are you here?”

Michael cocks his head, and it rolls and rolls until finally focusing as a small tilt to the left, “I was here to pick up the lost wanderer, and to my surprise she evaded me.” She cocks his head again, this time making a crackling noise of ice, “She will come back, but you are a clever lot. I also just wanted to pay a visit.”

He giggles again, laughter like the freezing chill of winter if it had a taste, “Imagine my surprise when I find the unimaginable here!”

Jon moves forward, trying to get in front of whoever this creature was, between Michael and his assistants, “You leave Helen alone, and you leave my people alone.”

“So very possessive, I can’t say I’m angry that one Archivist actually cares about it’s assistants.” Michael grins, leaning closer. “How very unfortunate for you that she went through the wrong door.”

“What do you-” Tim gets up, and feels Sasha and Jon holding their arms to make a small barricade. 

Michael laughs, “Anyone who traverses my halls come back, one day. I am patient until we are not.”

Jon bristles, “Just tell us what you want.” He pauses, “Please.”

“How cute. Domesticated Housepet Archivists are not useful to the Watcher.”

“What does that mean!” Sasha finally snaps, before taking a deep breath, “Do not talk about him like that. Or any of us for that matter.”

“Well I came to give you all a hint about the flesh hive, but I guess you don’t need my help-” He grins, knowing that he’s casted the best bait. Michael had caught the beast he wants, their undivided attention.

Martin blinks, “And why would you do that?”

“Because I want to be friends, silly assistant.”

“He has a name.” Jon mutters, before shaking his head, “Ok, what would this help entail?”

Michael hums, shaking the room with his thinking, “I help you out, and one day you do something for me. Or maybe you die before hand. Either way.”

“That’s… Certainly not comforting. But we can accept can’t we?” Martin says, turning to the other three, Tim is shaking his head but Sasha and Jon are nodding and he sighs. 

Michael claps, “Perfect. CO2 will kill the fleshhive. Bright red will be the future, unable to breath, twisting and twisting. I think it will quite interesting to see you fight off the thing that crawls and writes.”

Jon nods, before his tail stands on end, “You just took a woman, how can we be sure this is true?”

Michael grins even wider, splitting his face with the force of too many teeth, “You don’t. You just have to trust the thing which is untrustable.”

Then he leaves. 

The four of them stare, and decide that sitting in the breakroom for a few hours might do them some good to calm down. They don’t talk even though they need to.


	10. Writhing Speaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello I know the pacing is wack as fuck but I'm just proud that I'm not losing inspiration to write, so please don't roast me. School is a Horrible Thing and work is Even Worse

Jon sits in his office, ear’s flicking as he listens. He doesn’t know if he’s just paranoid but he hears squirming, listening to sounds in the walls. The newly established fire system that he said would be better for the documents than water installed gave him a false hope that they would be safe. And yet he hears the worms squirming. Little things crawling in the walls.

He sits still, unable to do anything but listen and listen and sit and listen. It’s so much, it’s like they’re back in there, and he can smell peaches even though he knows theres none down here. It’s like theyre touching him. His hyperawareness is like a knife, sharp and staring. He sees something moving and he’s terrified of it.

Finally some sense get knocks into him, and he gets out of his seat and zooms out to the bullpen. 

Martin looks up, worried for a second. The bullpen is silent, there is tension in the place, from Tim still being aggravated that they listened to a monster, and even more issues with Elias getting Jon alone and Jon not telling them what was bothering him. Sasha was digging her nose into research so that she wouldn’t have to deal with it or telling them what exactly she was doing.

“Jon? Are you ok?” Martin says, standing up looking at him. Sasha looks up and even Tim glances up. They look at him, tail and ears on end.

“I can hear her in the walls.” He says quietly, before taking a breath and standing up straight, “I think that we need to leave.”

Tim looks around, seemingly as paranoid as Jon, “Are you completely sure?”

“Yes I’m sure- just. Put your ear to the wall and listen.” He hisses quietly, and Tim does exactly that. His eyes widen and he wordlessly give an ‘oh.’

Jon feels vindicated slightly, and then they all stand up, “We have to get out.”

“What can we do though? There’s nothing we can do, unless you want to go tell everyone to evacuate because there are worms in the walls.” Tim says, standing up. Something in the other room falls, something large, and a rotting smell fills the room. They all notice it and realize that they have only a minute to get as far away from the danger as possible. 

Jon and Martin grab as many fire extinguishers as possible, Tim and Sasha doing the same. Though there is also an urge for Jon to run and grab the tape recorder. He plucks it up, before realizing he is alone in the room. For a second he feels bone deep terror, before runnig an following the smell of life, of fireworks and sandalwood and earl grey tea. He crashes into Document Storage immediately, Tim slamming the door behind him. 

Martin pulls Jon up and they all hold their fireextinguishers. Sasha holds out her bag, now full of cans of CO2. Tim looks like he holding back a shout of love confession, and they all feel briefly proud of themselves. 

Then Jon hears the squirming tenfold and tries not to flinch.

They sit there, the airtight room completely impervious to worms, as far as they can tell. Tim leans on the back wall, and Sasha finally breaks the silence.

“I’m not going to die angry, not with secrets.” She announces, staring at them, “Tim, I’m sorry for getting help from the Distortion. I know that you don’t trust him, and I understand why.”

Tim leans his head on her shoulder, “Sasha… thank you. I should’t have kept angry for so long.”

“It’s all you know.” Jon says with the depressing cadence of someone who knows that feeling all too well. 

“...Yeah. Yeah it’s hard to hear, but I suppose you’re right. Don’t get a big head about it.” Tim says, staring at the wall with sad eyes. Sasha moves her hand to grab his in hers, intertwining their fingers. Tim sighs and Jon nods. Martin looks at the three of them with sad eyes.

Jon clears his throat, “I apologize for not sharing what was upsetting me these past few days. I shunned you when I shouldn’t have.”

“If we survive we are talking things out better, ok?” Martin says, sighing and saring at the window that has been taken over by a curtain of teeth worms, “We’re all trying the hardes we can, and we can talk about boundaries and whatever else later. When we aren’t about to die, becasue we’re going to make it.”

Jon stands up, Tim and Sasha following. Martin looks a bit flustered at his outburst, but looks happy that theyre listening, “My last words aren’t going to be bitter. Now lets go.”

Tim grins, “I know the exact way out.” He then taps on a few walls to the storage, “If she can go through the walls so can we-EEEE HOLY SHIT!”

“Oh my god- what is that?” Martin yells, holding up the fireextingushier to see a blackness on the other side. 

“That looks like… Tunnels?” Jon mutters looking down the blackened halls, and the sttep cliff that drop sonto firty stones. It was all dirt and things growing unruly between breaking old concrete, or maybe just rocks that mimicked anything professional. 

Sasha lets out a disebeliving laugh, “Oh my god there are tunnels. After Jane is dealt with I want to come check these out.”

“One thing at a time!” Martin says, before hearing knockin on the door to document storage, “Ok now jump! The faster we get out- oof.” 

Jon leaps of the small distance, only about a full human height, and he dropped the fire extinguishers first. As he moves out of the way everyone follows after. Tim shines his light down the tunnels with one hand, the other poised on the extinguisher he held in his hands. Sasha was also poised to spray at anything she needed to. 

“Oh my god.”

“Is that-”

“Shit.”

“Gertrude Robinson.” Jon says, seeing his predessecors corpse laying there. Martin grabs his shoulder, the four of them staring in disbelief. Sasha’s hand is covering her mouth, and im looks shaken. Oh god they were really in it now. Jon bristles slightly, looking around, “It must have been someone who worked here.”

“With our luck it was probably Elias.” Tim mutters, his joke falling flat. Before he had to turn around. Jon tries not to breath through his nose, the smell of rot getting too much.

Sasha grabbed Martin and Jon’s arm’s, “We have to leave.”

Tim starts to push the three of them forward, “yeah I second that I don’t want to think about any of you dying.”

“Hey wait theres a light!” Martin says, pointing ahead in the winding tunnels and they all walk speedily to the light, seeing an open trapdoor.

“We’re in artifact storage.” Sasha whispers to herself, now taking the lead and trying to lead them all out of the winding and horribly stocked shelves of destructive artifacts. Jon looks around, his eyes lingering on some artifacts, before shaking his head and catching up with the others. Tim gives Jon his hoodie to hide his ears, since his hat was lost in the catasrophy.

When they get up Sasha pulls the fire alarm, and they run out of the building, “God I hate working here.” Tim says quietly.

“Fucking ditto Tim!” Martin hurridly shushes.

Jon tries his damndest to curl into Martin, everyone shaking and trying to crowd together. They see Elias calling someone, and then an ECDC van pulls up. Elias walks over to them, “I was worried for a second, when we found Jane Prentiss is the basement. I suppose you all made it out fine?”

Tim holds his tongue, and Jon immediately stands up straight, “Yes we’re fine.”

“Good good. I would hate to have to replace anyone.” His eye glints in a weird way and Jon stiffens even further. Martin gives a shaky smile, one that is all too fake but even Elias was fooled.

“Yes well, we need to talk to some officials.”

“Of course, I won’t keep you. The institute will have to be shut down for a week or two for cleaning and fumigating.” he souds displeased at that, “But I am sure that you all will do fine.”

They all nod, before Tim is pulling them over to the police to tell them about the body in the tunnels.


	11. Talking Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, a whole chapter about boundaries and communication! Hello I am a slut for good family tropes :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be trigger warnings
> 
> \- Slight grief of a loved ones passing  
> \- Dehumanization (Mentioned)  
> \- Mostly airing of grievances.

When they sat down after hours and hours of interrogation from the police, the ECDC, and even other institute employees, they all felt like a melted puddle of popsicles. They were happy they had already moved into this place, ready to collapse onto the couch. Still while exhausted emotionally and mentally and physically, there was restless tension. 

Jon was the one to bring it up, his voice catching them off guard, “I think we should all talk. Finish what we were going to say in document storage. I at least, think that I should. It’s not fair of me to…” He pauses, taking a breath, finishing with words that were hard to say, “it’s not fair of me to be annoyed when you don’t know what is making me tetchy at times.”

Sasha put an arm around his shoulder, “yeah. It’s not like any of us will be able to sleep. Might as well right? It’s important.”

For a second, Tim looks like he wants to have nothing to do with it, before looking a his hands, and then at the scars on his friends, “Sure. yeah. Alright. Nice. Lets. Let’s do this. Are we going to stay muddled on the couch while having our emotional breakdowns or what?”

“Oh yes I’d love to explain my trauma while being crushed by Martin-”

“You are the one who thought you could get in my space without getting crushed Sasha James!”

Sasha groaned made a fake pained noise, “But you never crush Jon and he’s always up in your business!”

“That’s because he is small and I don’t want to break his bones!”

“But you’ll break mine? This is favoritism!” She exclaims, fake dramatic.

Jon snorted, before getting out of the pile, waiting for the other three to untangle, “Might be best to have this conversation in the kitchen?”

They somber a bit, “Yes that sounds… smarter.”

“Smarter than getting a foot up my ass because someone like to sprawl.” Tim snarks.

Martin sticks his tongue out at him, “Says the one who sits before he looks.”

“Stop being mean to me!”

"Stop sitting on my foot!"

They sit at the dinner table, one they had bought from a charity shop the week they first started acutally living there and not transitioning from one place to another. Tim sits on a chair with his legs all splayed, and Jon, even though the situation is serious, still takes his spot sitting up on the table crosslegged. Sasha turns her chair around so she can lean her head on the back of it, and Martin sits like a normal human being.

“So. How are we going to do communal trauma sharing?” Sasha says, gesturing around, “Are we gonna do this like a bedtime story or are we just winging it-?”

Jon clears his throat, nervously fiddling with his tail, “I might as well go first before I lose my nerve. What should I start with?”

Martin makes a noise that calls the others to attention, “I’d like to know what Elias has been saying. I. I don't like that he tries to get us to fight. I mean, it just seems that way right?”

“No I definitely see it, he’s sneakier than you’d think… But it’s there. Why would he need us to be angry at each other? Other than being a rancid old man who likes drama.” Sasha says, tapping her nails on the table. 

Jon then looks vaguely uncomfortable, “I don’t know.”

“Ok Jon, if you’re alright with it, we’re listening.” Martin says, Tim and Sasha nod.

Finally he shifts and he is nervously flicking his tail, “He’s just been... I don’t know what to say but, whenever he calls me in for a performance review he always talks about how I shouldn’t let myself get ‘domesticated.’ Like what Michael said. He keep asking if I need to ‘resign’ because of my ‘condition.’ And it’s been bugging me. He treats me like I’m just an animal, and insinuates that everyone will if they find out about this. Like I’m not worth the trouble.”

He takes a deep breath, “It makes me feel. Sad. Upset.”

Tim blinks, “Those are certainly words to describe feeling.”

Jon whacks him with his tail, and Tim sneezes, “Sorry go on.”

“I. I think it gets to me that some people might see me as other than human. I don’t want to go back to be normal, I don't know what I would do without-- this--, and now I’m worried something is very wrong with me.”

“Oh Jon.” Martin whispers, and Jon doesn’t look any of them in the eyes.

Tim leans forward, and cups Jon’s face like he did before, “hey, I told you we like you as you, you prickly bastard. I make jokes, we all do, but you are our friend, not a pet. It is not weird to want to stay as you are. Also we all love a good cuddle.”

Jon gives a disbelieving huff.

Sasha leaned in as well, carefully laying her hand out and Jon takes it, “Exactly Jon, and if we ever seem like we are, just tell us what we’re doing is making you uncomfortable.”

He nods, clearing his throat, “yes well. That’s what been upsetting me. Nothing any of you have done.”

Tim sighs, “Ok well, you showed yours I’ll show mine.”

“Please don’t say it like that.” Jon said deadpan, and Tim gives him a grin before taking a breath and effectively killing his own slight laughter.

“I don’t like when you three jump head first into bad situations. I know i’m a hypocrite but i’m scared that I’ll lose you. Like I lost Danny. I don’t know how I would deal with the idea of you guys getting hurt by the supernatural, more than we have already. Sasha, Jon you’re both curious and do stupid things and I worry that the curiosity will end up hurting you. Martin I worry that you self sacrifice too much, I know you deserve better than what you get sometimes.”

“And… I’m scared you’ll leave. Scared you’ll die. Just like he did. So I get angry for no reason and don’t work it out, because talking is hard.”

Martin and Jon do not know who Danny is, and Tim remembers this, and tells them the tale.

“It’s why I joined the institute in the first place, to get revenge on whatever did that to him. Or at least to understand why.”

“Sometimes there isn’t a reason.” Martin says, putting a hand over Tim’s on the table, “Sometimes bad things just happen to kind and good people, it’s hard to accept, but that’s how it works.”

Jon leaned over and softly bonked his head on Tim’s, “From now on I will try to not jump head first into things.”

Tim nods, before angrily wiping away tears, “Quite being sentimental or I’m going to violently cry at you.”

“How tragic.” Martin says, staring at the three of them.

Sasha snorts and Tim gives a watery smile, and she clears her throat, “Alright alright, my turn I guess. I am sorry for trying to disappear in research, and I’m sorry for keeping things from you guys.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, privacy is important.” Jon is fidgeting with his hands, “You don’t have to share everything with us for us to respect you.”

She blinks, “Oh.” She shakes her head, “Well I want to tell you guys, I’ve been researching the Not Them, and Michael. It’s more than that- I’ve been going out during lunch on field work.”

“Sasha…” Tim says lowly and imploringly, and she scratches the back of her neck. 

“I know. I know. I shouldn’t. That’s why I needed to tell you guys.” She takes a deep breath, “I appreciate the privacy, but now I realize that if something like Jane Prentiss happened, I would be alone. That stresses me out. I don’t want to just disappear one day and be forgotten.”

“We could never forget you Sash.” Tim says, leaning into her space. She gives a small laugh and pushes his playfully, “You’re unforgettable!”

“Hey now you’re just using my words against me.” She pushes him again and he wiggles his eyebrows. 

“I would like to see what you’ve dug up while researching.” Jon says, before remembering himself, “Later of course. After the place is fumigated.”

“Jokes on you I keep all my research with me.” Sasha points to her work bag besides the door, “I’ll show you tomorrow.”

Now Tim looks over at Martin, “Your turn tea boy.”

Martin looks immediately put on the spot, “Uh- I. Well.”

“Hey, it’s ok, I’m just pulling your leg. Whenever you feel ready.” 

Now the man nods, thinking about a way to put his words, “I should have come up with a script of something…” 

Jon hums, leaning a bit to pat Martin on the shoulder.

“Ok… If I’m being honest I don’t want to be left alone when there are arguments, I understand people need alone time, hell I need it too, but when you all shut everyone out I worry. I also would like people to stop underestimating me. Usually I like it, but I don’t want you guys to think that about me. I know I’m soft but I feel like sometimes I get talked down to. I know my CV is fake but I’m not just a soft tea boy.” He takes a breath, before opening his mouth again, “I’m sorry that sounded-”

“No Martin I understand.” Jon says, “No need to apologize.”

“Yeah, I am sorry for not treating you like the true genius you are.” Tim gives a joking smile, “For real though, if we ever talk down to you, please tell us.”

Sasha nods, “Exactly. You are also a bitch when it comes to monopoly.”

“Fucking Monopoly! How are you so ruthless!” Tim says and Martin laughs, eyes a bit watery.

Jon hums, “A mastermind of manipulation. I don’t know how we’d survive without you pulling one over on Elias.”

‘Yeah we’d be dead. I think I’d end up like Gertrude if you didn’t think so fast.” Tim says.

“Too soon. Too soon!”

Martin smiles, still close to crying but differently from all the times before in his life, he was just happy. They all seem like a weight has been taken off their chest, and martin holds out is pinkie, “Lets try and sleep.”

Jon intertwines his piinky with Martins, and Tim does the same with his other hand. Sasha and Jon take the hint and they becoma circle of pinky promises, and they all laugh.

“Yeah. Lets get some sleep.”

Tim and Sasha go to their room, and they are whispering together as they go. Their quiet laughs are silenced by the door closing but Martin and Jon both know they are probably going to bicker about blankets until they fall asleep. Jon looks down, realizing they are still holding pinkies. Though he wants to keep holding, he lets go.

Jon doesn’t want to go to his room alone, not with everything that’s happened.

Martin clears his throat, “So. I know it’s silly but I would rather not- rather not be in a room by myself?”

This is the chance that Jon pounces on, “Ah. Me neither.”

And it is decided. Jon goes and gets changed in his room before coming to Martin’s room and immediately curls up. Martin runs a hand through his hair, and they both stay like that- too tired to sleep if you can believe it, hearts still healing from telling the others their issues. 

“You know we appreciate you right Martin? Not for tea, but everything.” Jon says this in a small voice, and Martin’s heart melts again like ice to a flamethrower.

“Yes, I do.” He feels Jon headbut his chest and feels like crying all over again. “Sleep well Jon.”

“You too Martin.”

\----------

Sasha sits up in bed, and Tim watches her, “We would never forget you.”

“You could. That table… I. If I had been alone in artifact storage I feel like something terrible would have happened.” Her hands are shaking, and Tim puts a hand over hers.

“Then lets fix it. Get the polaroid camera, and I’ll keep some pictures of us in my wallet.”

Sasha smiles, “It can’t change anything analog.”

“I had a feeling.” Tim leans in, “Lets take pictures and then go to bed alright?”

She leans in and their foreheads are touching, “Thank you Tim.”

“I’m just telling the smartest woman I know the truth.” He jokes, and they decide that the polaroid’s can wait.


	12. Hunter and People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I missed my usually daily update schedule LMAO. I had to work and it sucks. Also I am so tired, so if this one seems weirdly written please tell me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter:
> 
> Police.  
> Daisy and basira are here  
> Talk about murder

They had left the archives to be fumigated for a week, and when they returned they saw that it was cleaner than it had been before the worm, errant things moved to make a bit of an easier path, the place clean of dust, but smelling vaguely of cleaning material, a harsh lemon-y smell that assaulted their noses as they walked down the steps. Jon secures his hat a little farther down, and they all take in the place. The stairs down to the archives needed to be replaced, it seems, because the newer flooring was a bit of a greenish fake stone. Secretly they all think it’s ugly and that Elias was being much too extra.

Jon flicks off his hat, now that the door is closed, holding the hat to his chest, “I’ll start with relabeling and ordering the boxes, if everyone would be alright with that, send anything that doesn’t have follow-up to go with it back to research, and then we record the statements on tape, and digital.”

“Wow I was wondering what you were looking up on your little laptop.” Tim says, “Now I see that you’ve read up on archiving?”

He huffs, ears flicking, “I should have done it the first week but I don’t like to admit that I’m wrong.”

“Gosh if we knew that all we had to do to gain you saying that was letting you catnap on Martin’s lap, we would have done it sooner!” Sasha laughs, before looking around the open bullpen into the dark stacks, “It’s still majorly spooky in here.”

Jon groans, and Tim snickers, “Ooooh worm ghosts.”

Martin stretches, still a bit tired, they had to wake up early for their commute to work, even with Sasha digging out her drivers license, “I’m making tea before we deal with any of this.”

“Thank you Martin.” Tim and Sasha both chimed. Jon nodded at him. 

“Good lord it is bloody cold down here.” Jon mutters, and they all get to work quickly after that. Martin brings them tea, before helping Tim with the ‘not researched’ pile. He would take that upstairs to research and then come back down to do the same, since it would likely take a little while to explain why anyone from archives was delivering to active research, so Tim would already have more boxes for him to take.

Jon sips his tea, and starts to record, when statements wouldn't go digital, he would mark them as unavailable on the online archive source sorter, and then read it again to the tape- for proprietary reasons, he had told himself. But truly it was just because he was curious, he almost purred at the moment. Tea warm and steaming, curiosity sated, heating pad full blast, his people bustling only a few feet away in the other room. 

Sasha knocked, and he knew it was Sasha before he could smell her, a strange feeling overtook him before he yawned, “Yes Sasha?”

“Hey so we need paperclips. Stapling is not good for the old files…”

Jon blinks a few times, and then his ears flick, “And how did you find this out?”

“Well.”

“Oh please tell me you didn’t rip a statement.”

“It wasn’t me.” 

In the other room he could hear Tim slap his hand to his face, and say, ‘Snitch!’

Jon clears his throat, about to admonish before he realizes that that would do nothing to help the situation. He doesn’t need to push them away, no matter how he immediately prickled, “Ah. Well, who should run and get them?”

“We should put in a form for funds to get less outdated office supplies.” Sasha bitched, still holding the torn in half file. Jon was thankful that it had been on of the easily disproved ones, and he thought about it.

“I’ll send an email for the requisition’s, but I refuse to be left alone with Elias.” Jon said and Sasha nods.

“Yeah no, wasn’t even thinking about it.” 

Jon nods and then stands up to grab his laptop from his bag. His tail flicks and he has to shake his entire body before he can even think. He blinks, and then tries to fix the mess that was his hair, Sasha snickers and he gives her a glare.

“Are we going to get the requisition forms or will you be laughing at me all day?”

They hear Martin walking to the door quickly, “Uh. Bad news. There are cops here, look presentable.” He hisses quietly. Sasha quickly fixes her hair and Jon puts on his hat and shoes. Martin is self-consciously smoothing down his shirt, “They’re here about Gertrude again.”

“Shit.” Sasha mutters, before the three of them stand up straight and walk out of the office to greet them. Jon takes his mug, and kind of stares at the officer that is now glaring them all down. It is two cops, only two of them. One looks like a tall hardened woman, her hair up in a ponytail and face a bit muddled with scars. Next to her is an equally tall and intimidating hijabi woman. Jon smells something off, and his nose scrunches before he can control it.

One of them smells so strongly of dog that Jon was physically repulsed. It was not a good dog smell either, more of a big hunting dog that had been covered in blood and murky water and hasn’t seen a bath in years. He wonders if the others can smell it, but a quick glance tells him that they really don’t. Huh.

The blond cop shows her badge, Alice Tonner, “So we are here about the murder of Gertrude Robinson.”

The other woman shows her badge quickly, almost too quickly for them to make anything out, but they see her last name is Hussain, “We want to run interrogations on each of you in separate rooms, and then we can go on and let you about your day. We will be here until everyone clocks out.”

Jon’s ears flick under the hat, and he nods, “Of course..”

Martin looks around, “Uh, would you like some tea?”

Tim tries to hold a laugh, but his aborted snort made Martin glare over at him. Sasha was desperately trying not to smiles, because this was serious guys! They’re about to get interrogated! What if they go to jail? Still the idea of Martin offering the cop a cup of tea really made her want to snort. 

Jon wanted to elbow them, but they were all desperately trying not to crack and start laughing, and poor Martin was a bit red. It was just his defense mechanism.

The cops did not look impressed, “Alright quit grinning. Res head come with me.”

“Hawaiian shirt with me.” Hussain said. Martin and Tim did as they were told and Jon and Sasha just stood there. They kind of stared at each other, and then just decided to sit down in the breakroom. What else are they supposed to do? 

“So what do you think is going to happen?” Jon asks quietly.

Sasha stares in the distance, where the cops had taken their friends, “I really don’t know. We could go to jail. I am one hundred percent Elias did it. Or Rosie did it and shes gonna pin it on Elias.”

“I would encourage her.” Jon replied deadpan, “But I agree, none of us really…. Knew her?”

She hums, looking at the walls and shuddering, the feeling of being watched was heavy like an iron anvil, “Yeah. I know she was more cunning than she let off, acting doddering but I know she was sharp.”

“Sharp enough to keep this place hellish to look at?” Jon taps his claws on his knee, his skirt not helping with the chill that much. 

“Yeah I wonder about that.”

“What are you two chatting about?” The officer chimes in, as if appearing out of thin air. It’s the more hostile looking one and it causes Jon and Sasha to jump, almost letting out a spooked noise, before wrangling it back in.

Sasha doesn’t even look startled, “Who we think did it.”

Jon wants to headbut her, but derogatory instead of loving at that moment. But he doesn’t. Saved by the cop. Said cop simply stares, and waits until her partner comes out. Martin and Tim are wideeyed and uncomfortable. Jon can’t help but be frustrated that these people were coming in and messing with his people! The first blond cop suddenly looks like she had caught the scent of Something. Yet she simply looked over at her partner and then glared.

“Sims with me.” Tonner said quietly, and Jon tenses before nodding and getting up.

Detective Hussain beckoned Sasha to follow her and Sasha waves to them, but they can see how nervous she is.

Jon follows Officer Tonner into the section of the stacks that she had claimed as her investigation room. There was one chair and she gestured for him to sit down, he does so with slight hesitance. 

“Alright Sims, I’m going to be honest, you have the most motive to do the murder. Seeing as you now have her old job.”

Jon feels a bit spooked at that but tries to keep himself from getting snippy with a police officer, he knows anything could happen and she would in fact get away with it, “Yes well. I don’t like this job, I was more coerced into it by Elias. Sasha should have gotten the job, but we all know that Elias has something against women.”

Officer Tonner blinks for a second, “Ok-”

Jon continues, “Also I’ve only met her once, and I don’t know why anyone would kill her.”

He was cut off now, “I get it Sims, shut up.”

“Alright.” Jon said, flexing his hands in his lap and trying not to sound like a scared child. He had to be brought back to his grandmother by police, but that was a good deal different. 

She glares, “Take of the hat.”

“No.” Jon touches the brim of it.

“Why, have something to hide?”

“A truly atrocious hair day.” Jon jokes before flinching as she simply glares, not the time, that would have been funny to his people though, “No. It’s a comfort thing.”

She glares, and Jon does back, “Really it’s not like I can hide anything under it.”

Finally the officer lets it go and Jon feels a deep set relief, and she begins to cycle through questions that Jon can answer with slight clarity, but stumbles a bit because who in the world knows exactly what they were doing a few months ago on week of your life? 

“Who do you think did it?” She asks now, “If it wasn’t you.”

Jon thinks about it, “Elias probably. Not the assistants. Martin is a sweetheart and he’d never met her, Tim wouldn’t kill an old lady, and I think Sasha kind of had a hero crush on her? I mean, you know how suspicious it is for him to have told me she ‘probably passed in the line of duty?’ It’s an archive. Also the desk had to be replaced because of blood that only Elias noticed so there must have been some kind of connection there.”

Detective Tonner stares at him for a moment and he realizes he was rambling. He averts his eyes, knowing that they probably looked wide a saucers, pupils slit dangerously. She stares at him for a second.

“Alright Sims. Go out with your friends.” Jon gets up and adjusts his skirt and hat and leaves the stacks. He keeps his pace level even though he wants to run and jump into someone’s lap and hide. He walks out and sees Tim, Sasha, and Martin, and tries not to look visibly relieved. As he stands next to his people he hears the two officers moving away to talk to each other. 

Jon leans his head on Martin’s arms, “I hated every second of that.”

Sasha nods holding Tim’s hand tightly, “Yeah. That wasn’t… I hated that.”

“God I hope they arrest Bouchard.” Tim mutters, and right after that the Archives door opens and closes, the two officers off to interrogate other people.

“Me too.” Martin looks around, “How about we eat lunch early and then go back to work when we have our bearings together.”

“Good idea.” Sasha mutters and they all go to breakroom, feeling watched and hunted.


	13. Books Blood and Fur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello here is a double update to apologize for being a silly goose. Anyway this almost ended up in Supplemental but,,,, there's some plot. Like. A lot of it in four sentences :)
> 
> CW for this chapter
> 
> \- uhh, lowkey threats  
> \- daisy and basira r cops

The day goes by with a tense undertone, the cops are there, and they had to act like everything was normal, and they also were all trying not to look like a hot mess. Coworkers do not usually jump into each others lap and screech when they see spiders, so it was a day where they al pretended that they were normal people. This was a hard feat to accomplish. 

Sasha looks at the clock as it ticks down the time and immediately jumps up when it hits five. Home they go! She clears her throat and pretends that she wasn’t itching to get the hell out of there. Tim notices her movement and gets up himself, “Alright gang, I am out.”

Martin looks up and hums, “Ah, let me go get Jon, he’s probably reading a statement.”

He gets up from his seat, shuffling his papers together and putting relevant one into their correct files before storing them away in his desk. Sasha does the same, clicking off all her pens and trying to leave her space as clean as possible, before digging out her box of polaroids and putting that in her purse, no need to leave behind pictures of them, the cops don’t need it. 

Tim nods, “I’m going to get get everything from the breakroom situated, Martin go ahead and pull Jon out of his office.”

Sasha snorts, and Tim stick his tongue out at her. Then he goes into the breakroom after collecting all the mugs and cleaning them off, something Martin usually did but today he was on cat wrangling duty. 

Martin does not knock, simply calls out that he’s coming in, and peeks his head in. Jon is in the middle of a statement and he sighs. Guess he’ll hold back on that, Jon gets grumpy if they pull him out from a statement. He can see that the heating pad is on and Jon is bundled in a stolen cardigan as well. Martin almost coos, but instead takes the mug from Jon’s desk and goes to bring it to Tim.

Sasha hums, taking the trash bags out of the waste bins and tying them up so that nothing spills, and the smell goes away, “I’ll take the trash upstairs.”

“Thank god I hate doing it!” Tim says, and Sasha flips him off. He only laughs and turns the sink on even more, the water louder. It was so normal that they almost forgot the cops were in the room. 

Detective Hussain clears her throat, pointing to a bag on the counter, “Why are there cat treats in the cabinet? Just curious.”

Sasha pretends not to hear her, as she goes up the stairs to take out the trash. Tim does hear them and starts trying not to laugh, and Martin covers his mouth and looks away, not wanting to burst out in snickers, “Those were a joke gift.”

Tim starts laughing now, hard enough that he’s doubled over, and Martin goes to scold him, “Tim!”

“I’m sorry-” He is not sorry- “I just remember when-” he start ugly snorting and Martin can’t help but laughing, muffling the sound with his sleeve.

The cops do not look impressed and Martin gets a hole of himself, “Tim bought those to prank Jon.”

“He didn’t even notice please-” Wheeze. Tim is holding himself up on the counter now, remembering how angry Jon was when he found out. It was a pretty funny idea. It was not funny then but now it was something he looked back on fondly. 

“What in the world are you laughing at out here Tim you are-” Jon notices the cops, and Tim chokes on his breath, still doubled over.

Martin clears his throat, “She asked about the cat treats. Remember when Tim got those as a gag gift and fed you them?”

Jon glares, pretending to be annoyed at this being brought up, “yes I do recall threatening to make like a cat and claw him.”

Tim wheezes, “You were so mad- I ran three blocks before-” he snorts again, that one sounding painful.

Detective Hussain looks like she would rather be anywhere else and Officer Tonner clears her throat. Then the detective quirks the smallest smile, “I did the same to her. Dog treats.”

Jon blinks and hesitantly laughs a little, small but real. Martin stares before laughing as well. Officer Tonner elbows the detective but in good fun. They’re still afraid of both of them, but a little less so.

Testing his luck was Jon’s best skill, “Do either of you own a dog by the way? Hunting one?”

Detective Tonner blinks and then her face hardens, “No.”

“Ah.” Jon says, and then awkwardly turns to Martin, “I’ll go grab our coats.”

“Thanks.” Martin says, and then Sasha comes back down, going to wash her hands of the trash in the breakroom.

Jon gives everyone their coats and they put them on, “So should we be expecting you two again?” 

He doesn’t know when to shut his mouth and Tonner raises a brow, a sneer on her face, “Why, you need to hide something?”

Tim clears his throat, “Nah, none of us do. He’s just curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” Detective Hussain says, and Tonner looks like she wanted to laugh. Jon feels very much in danger and decides that it is time to go home. Sasha feels that energy too and they all gather their things in their bags and head out. Jon wonders if the cops are just going to snoop more and he feels hunted.

\------

Daisy watches as the four of them leave, and the door closes, loud and overwhelming, leaving them in silence until Daisy breaks it, “He smells like cat.”

“You told me.” Basira says, staring at the door as well, tapping her finger on her gun, “Is he a monster?”

“They all smell like cat, like him.” She says and then shakes her head, confusion taking over her face, “Yeah. I think he’s a monster, but also…”

“Spit it out Daisy, unless you want to tell me when we get to the car, I don’t want to stay down here forever. We need to investigate and then-”

“He smells like me?” She says carefully, “Like. Like blood, like hunt, but also like a monster.”

“Oh.”

“Books and blood and fur. I don’t think he’s our guy.”

“...oh.”


	14. The Call To Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi.
> 
> You all will hate me.
> 
> :3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:
> 
> -Implied violence :)

Jon flicks his tail a bit, happy that his archives no longer smells like dog. He had went around and tried to get rid of it with some success. Now he feels better though, and he is vividly reminded of that first day in the archives, when Martin let in a dog. He smiles softly, now finding it a bit funny. As he goes through the stacks, his ears flicker and he catches the sound of the archive’s door open. He puts on his hat, before weaseling his way through the stacks, following the winding path. 

He knows these stacks better than anyone, which was strange, because Sasha had the best sense of direction. But he just Knows, and when he’s hunting for a statement he finds it quicker than he would if not. He reaches the open area of the bullpen to see Sasha already talking animatedly with a person Jon knows from somewhere.

“Oh Jon! Statement giver! Melanie this is our Archivist, Jon.” Sasha says gesturing from the visitor and then to Jon, “Jon this is Melanie King. here to give her statement.”

“Ah that’s where I know you from.” Jon says quietly and Melanie bristles, a little less literally than he usually would, but with the same ferocity. 

“What does that mean?” She all but snarls at him. He shrinks slightly.

Jon shakes his head, slightly fixing his hat, “you’re Georgie’s friend, Georgie Barker? She talks about you.”

Melanie lightens up immediately, “Oh you’re that Jon! Her ex from uni!”

He makes a face, “Yes I suppose that’s me. I wish she introduced me as her friend but I can’t do much about it.”

She laughs, and then sobers slightly, “I need to give my statement.”

Jon nods now, face going serious, and he clears his throat, “This way.” He goes to his office and then clears off his desk quickly, taking folders off of it and placing them back in their correct place, something Jon had prided himself on was having his office folders be in order, and he moved his mug and such away so that it looked presentable. 

“So why do I have to come down to this manky old archive to give a statement?” Melanie says, looking around the office, face showing her distaste. He tries not to be offended, but this was his place! And his hu- his people were trying to make it presentable, and he thinks that they were doing a lot better of a job than Gertrude did!

He shrugs, “Frankly I don’t know, Elias seems to think that having us take it is more efficient when it should be research’s job, since we aren’t always equipped to find out. No one wants to come to a basement to talk to the staff.”

Melanie sits down though and he does the same, trying to get comfortable. He pulls out a tape recorder, a laptop, a polaroid camera, along with a packet of paper’s to write down her statement with a pen. 

“What’s all this?” She says, looking at the old things, “it looks-”

Jon cuts her off, not wanting to hear it at that moment, “It’s all the things we use. If the statement giver is alright with it, we take a polaroid so that if they end up replaced with something that isn't them we can mark the statement as NT. The tape recorder is a backup, if the statement recorder straight to the laptop, and the page is for you to write your statement.”

Melanie looks begrudgingly impressed, “That’s certainly thorough.”

“We’d rather not have things be a mystery. Most of this was Martin and Tim’s thinking, they’re very good about this sort of thing. Are you comfortable with the polaroid? That was Sasha’s idea.”

“Yeah no thanks.” She says, making a face at the camera. He can’t say he blames her, the idea of someone having his picture was unpleasant as well.

“Yeah not many like it.” Jon puts the camera away. And Melanie’s gaze goes to the little pin board in his office, with names and dates in an erratic order that only Jon knew, and then hanging from it were some strings of pictures.

She sighs, picking up the pen and twirling it between her fingers, Jon could smell how nervous she was and tried not to think about it, “So I write it?”

“Well yes we would prefer you write it, unless you want to record it yourself and then later I will go back and transcribe it.” He says, and he is thankful that his tail is hidden in the desk, as it was wrapped around the fronts of his ankles, in a way that Tim described as ‘distinguished little man’ pose. 

Melanie looks at the paper and then at the tape and laptop, “I’ll tell it.”

“I can leave the room if you'd like?” Jon says, getting ready to leave, even if he really wanted to know.

She glared at him, and he sat back down, “No it’s fine.”

And so Melanie gave her statement.

\-----------

Daisy stares at the house, Basira had left her to do this investigation, and Daisy was curious, and the smell of the hunt chased through her blood like iron to a magnet. So she took on look at their small house and it’s muddy yard, the smell of a recently vacated car filling her nose. The stench of hunt was thicker here, the feelings of heightened senses stabbing at her like a change in her bones. 

She walked through the yard, careful to not track in her mud, and picked the lock on the door to see what she could find. 

The house was homely, pictures strung up on walls, printed now largely in frames. Piles of newspapers on the coffee table and mugs left to dry on the counter. The smell of something Other still pursued her, mingling with the scent of tea and over-brewed coffee that say forgotten on the counter. It lead her down a hallway, through the strange décor of a slightly too big-for-a-cat cat tower. Down this bedroom she notices the smell of other completely overwhelming, a mix of eyes, blood, fur, paper, illness. She doesn’t understand why the foreign-ness still smelled like familiarity. 

As she stood in a room that seemed to be inhabited by two, she takes a deep breath. 

Scoping through the house again she takes a closer look at the pictures. 

Oh.

As she holds a polaroid in her hand she sees that it truly tells her why it seemed so familiar. He is a hunter, not in the same way she is, and she wonders how he can get over the call of blood. 

She would hunt that answer down.

\--------

Jon’s at full alert, staring at the house. Something is wrong, and he is full alert. As he creeps closer he can tell that the other three are confused, but he knows something is wrong. The smell of dog hits him, and he recognizes that smell, as he recognizes the person in their living room. It was the officer, something foreign in his heart screamed threat. She was near his people, she was dangerous, and she was not supposed to be here.

It happens fast, both of them startling into action. 

Jon can hear Sasha, Tim, and Martin yelling his name, but he can also feel something else, calling him to attack, calling him to work through his fear. He can feel his claws in skin. Jon can feel teeth in his arm. He can hear blood.


	15. Run Away Little Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi hello I love describing fight scenes, I am an action/horror writer at heart, no matter how much fluff I throw out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:
> 
> -Major descriptions of violence  
> \- Injuries  
> \- De-humanization, but like, self inflicted  
> \- Self deprecation  
> \- Open ended.
> 
> IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO SKIP I CAN GIVE A TLDR AT THE BOTTOM!

Tim doesn’t think he’s ever seen Jon act that way before, not even with Prentiss. Though Martin had seen what he really was like with Prentiss on their heels. Snapping at the threat like he wanted nothing more than her head on a steak. Sasha is frozen, as are Tim and Martin. Jon and the cop are tearing at each other like animals, the sounds of pain whining like wounded dogs. There is blood, Jon is clawing at the cop, and the cop is biting down hard on his wrist. They’ve both thrown out the illusion of humanity, of fighting like people.

  
  


Jon takes a kick straight to the jaw and somehow he stays awake, only dazed for a second, before he’s letting out a snarl and going back to elbowing the cop in the stomach. The officer howls angrily, her nails that hadn’t been that sharp a minute ago slashed across Jon’s face. Not too deep thankfully, but enough to leave beading bits of red behind. She’s already wrestling him down and he bites her hand as she comes closer.

  
  


Jon kicks the cop directly in the stomach with both his legs, trying to pry himself out of her grasp.

  
  


Martin watches, and then gets his bearings, eyes going wide, “Shit.”

  
  


“Fuck! We have to-” A scream that is not human tears through the sentence Sasha was halfway through. The two people with wildness in their eyes were injured but they knew who that sound came from. Tim flinches, and is the first to action now. 

  
  


He goes to the fight, pulling Jon away- trying to at least. There were nails digging into Jon’s skin and he couldn’t pull him away without tearing his arm open, “Shit. Shit! Jon. Jon!”

  
  


Jons ears twitch, and somehow he gets the much bigger cop on the ground, paw like hands near the soft of her throat as he glares down at her, she is pinned and he looked different. Instead of cuddly and soft as they know him, or maybe closed off, he looks downright predatory, teeth bared and hands flexed. Martin, Tim, and Sasha watch with bated breath at what will happen. It Jon really about to kill someone in their house? Is there really-

  
  


“What are you doing here?” Jon snarls, his voice is wrong thought, voice layered like static and ichor, as if the words themselves were stained onto his teeth like deep red juice. He looks run ragged, but victorious, like a proud wildcat.

  
  


The officer stares, and knows that she will be unable to move without endangering herself, “I-. I came to investigate, to see why you could ignore the call to hunt, to pounce- I.” It was like she couldn’t stop speaking, words torn out of her like she had torn the carpet, dragged out of her like a corpse through the brush, “You have people that ground you to humanity instead of the- the hunt. I. I wanted to know how you did it, and why you smelled like… Like something familiar.”

  
  


Jon looks at her, and his pupils change, the color back to it’s normal brown and not brightened honeyed gold. He tears himself away, shaking slightly, he looks at his hands in shock. Tonner sits up and puts her bloodied hands to br throat, as if checking that she could still breath. Jon skitters away from where Sasha had gone to look at him, running with a slight limp to another part of the house, a door slamming, a door locking. 

  
  


Officer Tonner still stares, at the three of them, at the mess that the animalistic fighting caused. She stands, and the three people shrink back, almost scared she would return to that wolf-like moment of anger and violence. 

  
  


“I- What is he?” She asks, her voice rough, but she sounded like she knew something that they did not, and was still checking. Beaten down was her pride. 

  
  


They’re quiet until Tim laughs, incredulous colored rage and he throws his hands up, “You broke into our house. And now you want to know ‘what he is?’”

  
  


Officer Tonner stares, whatever sharpness that they were used to in her eyes, now realizing that it was a supernatural shine, was gone, “He’s like me.”

  
  


“He’s nothing like you.” Martin says, all but hissing, his face set in anger. He looks downright smoking at the ears angry, eyes set.

  
  


“He is. He’s... “ She doesn’t know what to say, “He’s not human, more than you think.”

  
  


“Then neither are you! You’re the monster here!” Tim yelled now, his emotions taking over at this point. Officer Tonner looks at her hands, at the three of them, and then where Jon had taken off. Her eyes go distant.

  
  


“You’re right.” She says, “You’re really right.” The officer says, words like reflective glass, as if she was thinking about herself now, before leaving, a slight limp, to where she had parked her car, hidden away. 

  
  


Sasha is the first to snap out of whatever daze they were having, watching the cop leave. She rushes to the door and closes it, locking it, and then deadbolt locking it. She places a chair underneath the handle just to be safe. Tim goes and makes sure all the windows are locked, and when that’s done, the three of them go searching for Jon.

  
  


There was smears of gore here and there, and the three of them worry. 

  
  


He’s not in his room, not in the room that he usually shares with Martin. He wasn’t in Sasha and tim’s room or bathroom. They hear water start, and Martin follows the sound to the guest bathroom, all the way in the back of the house. He tries the door, but just like the three of them knew, it was locked. 

  
  


“Jon? Jon let us in.”

  
  
  


\-------------

  
  
  


Jon sits in the tub, the water run red, but unable to take off his tattered clothes. He cant. He. He stares at his claws and feels the sting of open wounds. The shower flattened his hair to his head, his ears flattened to make sure no water got in them. He could hear yelling, Tim’s voice, and he feels a shock of worry for his people, before he pushes it down. That wasn’t human. He wasn’t human.

  
  


Bruises colored what little skin he could see, large claw like wounds going town his legs and arms, torn sleeves and all. His face probably looked a right sight, with how it stung in the water.

  
  


He had hurt someone. Had hurt her badly- could have killed her. She could have killed him. Jon didnt want to face the way that they’ll look at him, will they still love him with what he had just done? He was a danger to them, he was a danger to be around. He wasn’t a person, not after that, he had to get away from the people he cared about. Elias was right. 

  
  


His stays sitting down in the bath, staring far into the distance, mind racing. The sound of the door makes him flinch again. The cop is gone, he realizes, his keen hearing picking up the sound of a car getting away. 

  
  


Someone is outside the door. They do not knock. 

  
  


“Jon?” He doesn’t answer. It’s Martin’s voice outside, and then again, “Jon let us in.”

  
  


Tim and Sasha are out there too, and he can smell them, achingly wanting to crawl back like a broken mouse, into the warm comfort. He was torn between pride that he won and disgust at himself for that pride. ( _ That was his hunt- his right of passage he was-) _

  
  
  


But heres the thing about cats, when they’re hurt, or think they’re going to die, or think they’re going to hurt the humans they love, well… They run away.

  
  


And that’s what Jon did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG STORY SHORT: Jon and Daisy fight, he compels her and then he snaps out of his angry daze and runs to lick his wound. After daisy leaves, the three assistants go to check on him, and he had left the house because he didn't want to face the fact that his friends might see him differently.


	16. Theirs and His

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW:
> 
> \- Injury  
> \- Hunt shenanigans

Daisy had gotten home to her flat, sparsely decorated, as she had spent most of her adult life working on the force, not worrying about inanity. Now that she looks at it, she feels a hollowness where her home should be. Before letting that sadness consume her she had important business to attend to. 

  
  


Such as dressing her wounds.

  
  


Such as a phone call.

  
  


“I quit.”

  
  


\---------

  
  


Martin is worried. It’s been a few minutes and the shower is still going but they don’t hear anything. Tim finally muttered, rolling his sleeves up, “Fuck it.”

  
  


Sasha stops him from busting the door in, holding him bodily, she was stronger than she looks, “Tim- Tim! We have a key, stop being- fucking! Stop it!” 

  
  


Tim straightens and moves away from the door, looking down and not meeting Sasha or Martin’s gaze, “Sorry. Sorry. God. Can you get the key?”

  
  


She nods, and goes to do exactly that, Martin puts a hand on Tim’s shoulder, “Hey. It’ll be ok, Tim. He’s going to be ok.”

  
  


“I’m worried. I. I feel like we have no control over anything. He might be dead! You better not be dead Jon! I will be so pissed if you are.” Tim says through the door. He looks defeated, Martin puts an arm around him, holding Tim closer. He leans into the comfort Martin was offering and just sighed. Sasha comes back with the key and unlocks the door as fast as she can, even when her hands were shaking. 

  
  


They open the door, and find that the bathroom is empty. The shower is still running, and the places that were still saturated with red -- the handprints on the side of the shower, leading to the window like an injured animal, dripping on the floor-- sent a chill down their spines; or maybe that was the open window. Tim stares at the window, and Sasha drops the key.

  
  


“He left.” Martin said softly, quietly, his eyes wide as it takes a second for them to process what was happening, “Oh my god. He left!”

  
  


Sasha looks through it, staring at the window with open worry, “We have to find him. He’s hurt, and bad.”

  
  


“If I were an injured catboy where would I go?” Tim joked slightly, but his far off look said that he was scared, wanted to find Jon before he was more hurt… before they have to find his body and not him. Martin turns, and Tim closes the window, locking it because he didn’t want the cop to come back. They go to the livingroom and put on their coats, and extra clothes for Jon. He would freeze to death if he was in wet clothes. 

  
  


Martin opens the door and Sasha gets to the car, starting the engine, “Jon would go to the institute. I think, unless he ran off into the woods. I really hope he didn’t run out into the woods.”

  
  


“God I am going to get him!” Martin mutters, and gets into the backseat, knowing to let Tim have the front seat. Sasha books it, and starts driving to their place of work, going much over the speedlimit. Jon couldnt have gotten far, not with the state he was in. 

  
  
  


\-------

  
  


Jon limped and leaned against a tree, trying not to slow himself down. He didn’t really know where to go, not now. He felt, pardon his joke, like a stray. For now he sits down against the tree and looks himself over. The water had cleaned most of his cuts, but now he felt like he needed to fix himself. 

  
  


After a moment, he gets over himself, and whatever dignity he thinks he had, and licks the injury on his hand. It had been instinct, much like the attacking the wolf woman- officer. Officer Tonner. She was a person, more so than him. He shakes the thought out of his head and pushes his hair out his face. If his injuries were as bad as he felt, he thinks that this might be it. Imagine dying because of a cat fight.

  
  


Even when he was in pain and in the midst of a self hatred spiral, he could be funny. The moment of happiness died though, since he had no one to share it with. He remembers the institute, the wealth of knowledge it held, and how helpful it might be. For some reason, the idea of chasing knowledge was just as plentiful as the idea of fighting in his livingroom was- something gave him an immediate drive. 

  
  


Jon stand up now after licking the lacerations on his wrist and hand, feeling a bit better. His ear flicks in irritation at the damp feeling but he pushes through it, before starting his quest to the Magnus Institute. He notices that his shoes have gone missing, and wonders where they had gone. Either way it was a bit more comfortable, without the thought of slicing open his socks. 

  
  


He thinks about Tim, Martin, and Sasha (-his people he needs to go back to them-  _ what if they can’t protect themselves _ -), and wonders if they even know he is gone. They probably do, who was he kidding. ( _ His people loved him- he was theirs and they were his _ .)

  
  


Jon thinks about getting information on what Officer Tonner talked about, that hunt, the chase. As his mind sets to the idea, something in his blood rushes, and he stalks through the smallest bit of woodland that London has, to the back entrance of his workplace.

  
  
  


\--------

  
  
  


Martin is the first in the building, at least Tim had the sense to grab the keys to the place from the little ring on the coat rack. They wonder if they had beaten him here, as the door was still locked, and walk carefully down the steps, not seeing any footprints or signs of wetness against the tile. They make their way down the awful ugly archives stairs now, each of them using their phones as a light. It was dark as hell, another sign that Jon was not there before them.

  
  
  


They turn the lights on when they reach the bottom, and Martin goes to search the Head Archivists office, and Tim is searching through the stacks. Sasha holds out a bag of cat treats, “Do you think he will come if I tempt him with these? Like a cat hiding under a bed.” She jokes to herself before sighing and placing them down. 

  
  
  


When there is no sign of Jon, they sit together in the break room.

  
  
  


“Do you think….” Martin trails off, staring at the door to the archives. 

  
  


Sasha shakes her head, “No. He can’t be dead. I feel like we would know.”

  
  


“Yeah, our scraggly bastard wouldn’t go down from just one fight.” Tim says, though he is starting to bite his nails, as he looks around the breakroom. 

  
  


Martin sighs, “What if he thinks we are mad at him?”

  
  


“God he probably does. He didn’t do anything wrong, but he feels like he did.” Sasha says, “I know how he gets.”

  
  


“Yeah. He has this thing where he goes, ‘oh woes me I have done one thing not particularly normal now everyone hates me.’” Tim laughs a little.

  
  


“Do you think he’s not coming here?” Sasha says after a few minutes of silence, “what if he went to the house and all the doors are locked.”

  
  


Martin looks worried, and then they stand up, “we can’t just sit here, lets go looking again.”

  
  


“Yeah. yeah. Good idea.” Tim mutters, and they leaves the archives. The night is cold, most people gone home, and they notice that it is quiet, like a crypt with no bodies, but stories of them instead. When they get to the door of the lobby they see something limping close. Martin rushes out of the door to see Jon, wide yellow eyes starting before they catch up with the fact that his people where there.

  
  


Martin is already picking Jon up, and Jon lets out a startled noise. He looks like he had been startled out of something, life leaving his eyes.

  
  


“Jon!” Tim said, and he too was speeding over, and Sasha right behind him. Jon looks confused, eyes wide and pupils dilated. Martin had him held up bridal style with Tim and Sasha all in his space. 

  
  


Jon looks confused, his ears flattened to the top of his head, “Martin? Tim? Sasha?”

  
  


“Don’t you ever do that to us again! We were so worried! We are going home and actually giving you the medical care you need.” Sasha scolds, and Jon still looks at them.

  
  
  


“But I- I’m dangerous! I almost killed her!” he says, not trying to wiggle out of Martin grasp, irritating all the woulds on his body and leaving little hints of red on Martin’s sweater.

  
  


“Dangerous my ass, we have you cuddled up in a Martin hug and we’ve seen you playing with a laser! You let us pet you and I have given you more forehead kisses than I have hugs. Jon you are about as dangerous as a little kitten.” Tim says, and Jon smiles tentatively, small and hopeful, trying not to. ( _ his people loved him. He was theirs and they were his. _ )

  
  


“Yeah kind of hard to be scared when you were just wanting to protect us.” Martin says softly, “Lets go home, ok?”

  
  


While Sasha is driving, Jon takes off his wet shirt, the life that had been breathed into him by the idea of answers, the quest, was quiet now, and he laid his damp head on Martin’s shoulder, tired and weary. Martin smiles, holding him softly, hand gently smoothing over Jon’s cheek. Jon falls asleep there, and Martin carries him inside when they get home, while Tim closes the door behind them.

  
  


They patch him up, and he just watches, eyes wide and watchful. ( _He was their friend, their Archivist, he was their supernatural._ )

  
  


They will talk about it later, but for now Jon is wearing Tim’s stolen shorts and Martin’s sweater, and is being carried to a bed, which would be better to heal in than on the couch. Sasha, Tim, and Martin sit there with him as he sleeps peacefully, before all of them needing to talk.

  
  
  


\--------

  
  


“Did you guys get that feeling?” Tim said quietly, staring at the door to Jon’s room, “Did you guys think of him as Archivist?”

  
  


Sasha’s hands flex, “Shit. I thought I was the only one.”

  
  


“Do you think the Leitner… did more than what we originally suspected?” Martin says, looking at the jar of ashes they kept as a souvenir, next to the ashes of Prentiss. 

  
  


Tim bites his lip and then grabs Sasha and Martin’s hands, “Are you scared of him?”

  
  


It takes only a moments hesitance, but the answer rings true, “No. No we don’t.”


	17. Take a Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have just been writing nonstop

Jon had woken up, and was so very tired. He lets out a pitiful noise after moving his bandaged arm, and sits up anyways. He looks around to see the room vacant. He panics for a second before he realises there is a note on his head, he takes it off and read it, “Don’t go to work. Take a few days to recover. :)”

That seemed like a bad idea, he thinks, standing up too quickly and catching himself on the bed once more. Standing up was also a bad idea. He knows that was Sasha’s handwriting, opening the door to his room and noticing that there is little sign of life, the cups cleaned and coats gone from the racl. He grabs his phone, and calls the first person on dial.

“Jon? You’re awake I take it.” Tim says, joking a little, “How are you feeling?”

He want’s to say something that matters, “I’m alive… Where are you three?” He asks instead, something that matters, but maybe not what he wanted to ask originally.

“Sasha and Martin are going to get supplies to fix the house, I’m at work. Turns out I can’t take off to help a friend, Martin and Sasha got approved though.” Tim sounds bitter at that, and Jon hums in acknowledgement, he would hate being in the archives alone.

Jon thinks for a second, slipping on socks, “Tim, are you ok?”

Tim sighs on the other end, “No. I’m not. But don’t go worrying about me.”

“I’m coming to the archives.” Jon says with finality, and he hears Tim on the other end trying to protest, but he refused to have Tim be alone where there could be danger. And… He didn’t want the self destructive behaviour to set in, not while he wasn’t there. He hangs up and moves his hands, flexing his fingers and going to get changed. Jon feels like a raging dumpster fire, and he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. Bandages wrapped around his wrists, bandaids on his face, clothes not his own.

He grabs his own clothes and changes as quick as he could with his bandages intact, throwing his hat on and snatching a bottle of painkillers, taking two and putting the rest in his work bag. He looks around and finds his cane, from when he had been hurt in highschool, and uses that to help him hobble his way to work. Said cane was something that he had liked enough to keep. 

People scoffed at him as he walked slower than usual, every once in a while tugging the hat down so that it wouldn’t fly off. 

Into the lobby, he sees Tim is waiting for him, and he looks agitated. Jon walks over to him, looking up and gave a hesitant smile. Tim looks at him, and agitation dies down into an annoyedly fond look, and he takes Jon’s bag from him. They both walk down to the archives, and Jon sits down as soon as he can.

“So. You just going to be here to give me company bossman?” Tim says, placing the bag down next to Jon’s office.

He shakes his head, “I am going to work.”

“Jon.” Tim said low, as if a warning.

Said man shook his head, “No, not the kind you’re thinking of. I need to find some files.”

“A mission then?” He leans on Jon’s desk, braced on his forearms. Jon nods, and then sighs, getting up was an issue he was very much fed up with already.

Tim looks like he wants to stop him from moving, but just takes a deep breath and lets the subject drop, “Ok Jon. Holler if you fall or something ok?”

“Of course.” Jon says, before limping around with his cane to get to his quest. The stacks are tall and intimidating, but Jon feels like he knows this place, like these paths were his own to stave and keep. There is a comfort in the idea of not getting lost, but finding an almost camouflage was nice, he already had a home but this place makes him less self conscious than before. (Because he was the one watching now-this was his place no one elses-)

He searches for statements, and digs up as many as he can. He thinks that maybe he should keep the lietner statements in his office from now on. The further he goes into the winding path of the Archives, the more messy and dated it gets, the more dust crawls through like a sentient being. He finds that he doesn’t mind, though he wishes that the place was more organized, nicer. It was like when you get home from a long business trip, and everything is not in the right place, moved just to the right by three inches.

Jon scans through different files, and if they peaked his interest he would take them down and bring them along with him. His ears flicker, and he knows that no one will really disturb him, or even see him this far in. The sound of his own breathing seemed to mix with that of the slight ventilation, making the archives feel alive as he was.

When he emerges from his small trip, arms full of files and hat replaced on his head, he sees Elias Bouchard walking down the Archive’s steps. He blinks in surprise when he sees Jon, and Jon puts the files down on Sasha’s desk. There is a sudden urge to get Elias out of his archives, he wants him out. (He is not worthy to be Jon’s people.) 

“Jon. I didn’t think you’d be in today.” He says, and Jon’s tail flicks. He doesn’t even realize he is staring.

“Yes well. I have research to do.” His ears are flicking, he feels like he wants to jump or run. (he wasn’t going to leave one of his people alone with that man here.)

Elias looks pleased, hands clasped in front of him, “That is a pleasant surprise. May I ask why you are injured?”

Jon deadpans, “No.” He stares, and then he thinks about everything that’s happened, “Why do you want to know?”

“Well because I am invested in the safety of my employees.” Elias says, in that infuriatingly smug and annoying voice that made Jon want to claw him. (He is a liar. He is a threat.)

“No you’re not.” Jon says, glaring intensely, and Tim remembers how paranoid Jon can get, how angry he can be, “You like watching us suffer.”

Tim gets closer now, not wanting to leave Jon to glare himself dead at the boss. He puts a hand on Jon’s shoulder, but he does not back down. His eyes are gold, he thinks. Now that Tim looks at it, Elias’s eyes are a sickening green. Have they always ben so… unnatural? Was there something spooky happening right under their noses?

Elias laughs, stepping closer, “Oh it seems you’ve gone a bit rabid. Not on a leash anymore are you?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Tim hisses finally, his eyes liquid fire, “Shut up and leave him alone. I don’t know what you are, but you aren’t good.”

Jon looks surprised, but a bit happy that someone was on his side, Elias only hums in mild interest, “Seems I’ve stuck a nerve there. Do tell me how the research goes, Jon. Do tell me if we need to invest in a muzzle.”

He leaves and Jon practically slumps against Tim, his anger now dissipated, “Thank you.”

“No problem boss.” Tim says, and is suddenly glad that he had not been left alone here, he thinks if he had been there with Elias alone he would have caught a charge, a murder charge at that. Jon pulls away from Tim, and then sighed. “Hey Jon?”

“Yes?” He raises a brow at Tim, and said man just smiles slightly.

“You might doing your research in here? I don’t want you collapsing in your office and me not hear it.” Jon looks surprised, but gives a small smile and nods. He pulls his documents to the ground, where he would sit by Tim’s desk, and they worked in utter quiet.

Until Tim’s phone rang, “Yello Sasha-”

“Oh my god do you know where Jon went? Martin went to check on him and I need to know if we have to go out on another search and rescue mission.”

Tim sighs, “Hey. It’s all good. He’s here with me. Why didn’t you just call him? He’s a big boy who can handle himself.”

Sasha on the other end groans, “I tried. He didn’t answer.”

Jon then looks embarrassed, “Sorry Sasha. I think I left my phone on silent in my office.”

“You give me another heart attack and I am going to beat you to death.” He can almost feel Sasha’s glare through the phone.

Tim laughs, rolling his eyes, “Alright enough death threats. We’re about to come home anyway.”

“We are?” Jon asks, head cocked to the side.

“Yeah. It’s thirty past five.” He points to the clock and Jon huffs. He was in the middle of looking through this statement. He would record it on tape, or digitals later, but he would rather do that when he wasn’t around the others. They thought it was rather morbid, and did not enjoy his zone outs. 

“Ah.”

A new voice on the other end of the phone, Martins, “Bring home takeout no one wants to cook.”

Tim snorts and Jon nods, “Yes cooking sounds like a hassle at the moment.”

“You aren’t doing anything when you get home! I am still annoyed that you left! Absolutely typical.” Martin yells over the phone, and Jon shrinks slightly, before giving a very definite pout. 

Sasha hums, “Alright alright. Get take out, clean and fix up the living room, anything else we need to put on the to do list?”

“Not that I can think of.” Tim mutters before tapping his fingers on the desk in a soothing rhythm, “Oh! We need new first aid stuff.”

Jon winces, “Sorry-”

“Don’t apologize for getting hurt, you can’t help it.” Tim stops him, and then pets his head. Jon pulls away, not in the mood to be pet at the moment, he still felt too angry at what Elias said, his whole being a raw nerve, “Oh! Tell Georgie about the spooky stuff.”

“Alright. That task goes to Martin.” Sasha says, before Martin scoffs good heartedly.

“I am the one who knows how to fix things, you are telling her.” He says and Sasha groans.

Tim laughs and Jon smiles a bit, they say their goodbyes and hang up. Jon take his files and puts them carefully in his bag, somehow without Tim noticing, probably because he was caught up in what he was doing- checking takeout places and the train. They go out and Tim looks at Jon.

“Thank you for not leaving me alone today, I’m still cross that you went and agitated your wounds with all the walking though.”

Jon hums, “It’s no problem. You’d do the same.” He gives a sly smirk.

“Damn right I would.” Tim says, elbowing him softly, “Lets get home. I bet Martin is dying to see you.”

“Oh and I’m sure Sasha is just lonesome without you.” Jon rolls his eyes and Tim laughs.

“Other way around there! I would die without our lovely token smart person. She is the beating heart of this friendship.”

Jon laughs softly, “Don’t three of us have masters?”

Tim scoffed, “Yeah, but do either of us have common sense?”

“Hey!” He pretends to be cross.

Tim holds up his hands, “This is the dumbass spotter 3000,” he waves his arms over Jon, “beep beep beep! We’ve spotted one!”

Jon raises one of his hands, “turn that thing back on yourself, your lack of smarts is reflecting off of me.”

“Gasp!”

\----------------

It is the middle of the night, and Jon can’t sleep. He knows that Martin has went to bed, Tim and Sasha were asleep in their own room. He thinks the only plus of having his own room was the small desk, as he rather missed sleeping in Martin’s bed, waking up warm. Now was not the time to think about that.

He started spreading out files from his work bag, and his hand draws him to one. He takes it carefully, and when he pulls it out a tape recorder follows, hitting the wood with a soft dull thud.

He might as well read this one out loud.

“Statement of Benjamin Hargold, regarding a book that changed him.” He starts, and reads it all the way through, there are gorey details, every bit. Jon goes into that haze whenever he reads a statement, but then zones in on something significant. The book title. 

“There are many ways to catch a mouse.” The title flashes in his mind, and he thinks to the jar of ashes that sits in the living room. That was the book, it was talking about his book. The man’s missing person’s file attached to the minimal followup. He had no one close to him, Jon thinks. That’s why he went off his rocker. He said that he would be free, if he roamed the wilderness like an animal.

He takes a deep stuttering breath, and starts to read more statements. Mind overwhelmed with words that Jon wishes he didn’t know. Things and information was spilling into his mind; he both hated and loved it.

The door opened and he startled, turning from his dimly lit desk to see Martin there, in a jumper than reached his thighs, looking tired.

“Jon?” He looks confused at the thought of Jon at his desk.

“Martin? What are you doing up?” He asks, trying not to show how frazzled he was. The statements and then the sudden opening of the door scared him, though he knows if it had been knocking he wouldhave startled worse.

The man laughed, just a ghost of one, small. A wisp of amusement even though his face spoke of a sleepless night. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Jon blinks a few times, and shuffled the pages together. Putting some files into their correct folder and looking away, “Reading statements. About the book. I got lucky.”

“Oh Jon.” Martin said softly, and gestured slightly. Jon gets up from his desk and shambles over, leaning his head into Martin’s chest and taking the hug, warm arms wrapped around him, a hand carding through his hair and a chin resting gently on his crown, “Lets leave that there. Would you like to come and sit in my room for a bit?”

Jon was about to say no, but he sees something in Martin’s eyes, something small and scared, and he realizes that the other must have had a nightmare. He needed the company as much as Jon did. He leans into the hug, most of his weight supported by Martin. 

“Yes. That sounds nice.”


	18. Cops here to cause trouble again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basira,,,,,, Scary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:
> 
> \- Implied violence  
> \- Guns  
> \- Basira

It takes a few days, but the news of Daisy’s quick and efficient cut off reached her. She was doing independent work, under the false pretenses that Daisy was doing things ‘to police discretion.’ No. It turns out her partner had abruptly quit, and ended all contact with the police force. No one could stop her really, they had covered for her many acts of heinous almost-justice, they can’t get her back. Losing a sectioned officer is always hard, but it hit Basira harder that her partner in all of this had just… gone cold turkey.

With her face set in stoney determination, Basira gets in her car, and speeds off to Daisy’s flat. The roads are sparsely inhabited by other drivers, and she thinks that it would work perfectly for her. She needed to find her partner and question why she would ever quit the force. 

Daisy was good at her job, damn good at it, probably the best. If Basira looked the other way for some of the more brutal jobs, that was neither here nor there. She was good at her job and she had loved it. She told Basira she loved it. 

She reaches the flat only to find that it was no longer lived in, the landlord said that while Daisy was a lovely tenant, never causing problems, she had decided she needed something new. He tells this to Basira only because he knows that he’s seen her weaving in and out of that door, with the familiar face.

Basira almost snarls when she gets into her car again, this time she would be using that police discretion to her advantage, with finding out why Daisy went off the grid, and she has a feeling that the knows exactly what happened. Knows exactly who to interrogate.

\--------------

Jon wriggles in his seat, the heatpad doing well for any aches and pains of moving while injured has. Somehow during this time, he had healed pretty well, despite how ‘stupid he was to keep moving, I ought to put you in a blanket bundle’, as said by Sasha. He hums into his tea, looking through statements. He had recorded a few to digital, but those weren’t as fun. He was searching more for the ones that sent a chill down his spine. Not because he was a thrill seeker, but because those always seemed to have more answers.

His phone buzzes, and despite himself he checks it. Thankfully he did. It’s a frantic text from Tim, saying that a cop was coming towards his office, and she looked pissed. He throws on his hat and tries not to look startled when the door opens to an angry cop.

“Jonathan Sims.”

“Detective Hussain?” He was both relieved and terrified. If it was the other cop he knows it wouldn’t end up too terribly. This lady though? She had a gun and would put him down like old yeller, not a hesitation.

The detective closes the door behind her, and points the gun directly at his head, Jon stares no quite sure what to do, “Woah- hey, why-”

“Shut up. Where is Officer Tonner?” She could look the part of snarling animal, Jon thinks before getting a hold on himself 

He doesn’t know, “I don’t know-”

“-Don’t you dare lie to me Sims!” She points the gun ferociously and Jon shrinks. 

“I. I really don’t know-”

Hussain stalks closer, “When was the last time you saw her?”

“She broke into our house-” He was almost unable to get the words out, “She was in out house and she attacked me! I haven’t seen her since!”

The detective stares now, and he is pretty sure this is going to be it.

“And you’re still alive?” She says, inspecting him like he was a lab specimen. 

Jon nods, gesturing to the bandages on his face and hands, “Officer Tonner left that night. I haven’t seen her since.” he repeated. 

Still she glared, and then her phone rang. From the looks of it, it was her boss, and Jon knows that that is the only thing that saved him. She turns and leave the room, leaving Jon shaken as anything. His body was rushing with adrenaline, and he was lightheaded. Before the door could close on it’s own, his people were there. 

“Jesus Jon.” Sasha mutters, and he slumps slightly. Tim and Martin come to each side, but instead of comforted he felt trapped. Jon zips up, darting out of his seat and just barely missing a collision with Sasha as he goes to the Archives. He is going deeper into the stacks and leaning onto a bookshelf when he hears the other worrying.

There he was, running off again… 

He sits down, back against the shelf and takes a deep breath. No one was around to squish him, and he felt less claustrophobic, even in the tight stacks. He wondered why this place felt like safety (his people felt like safety but that is a different safety, here he is the one who watches and catches and knows-)

Either way. He needed a breather. That was… That was a lot. Getting a gun pointed at you was never a pleasant thing to have done. He takes a deep breath, and then a few more, body slouched as the feeling of endless words surrounds him. It was only when he felt comfortable enough to purr to himself that he got up, and went back to where his people were.

They looked at him worriedly, and he sighs, “I. I’m sorry about that. Just felt like too much.”

“That’s alright, privacy.” Sasha says, and he nods. 

Tim looked from the Archives door to Jon, “What happened?”

“I think Officer Tonner is missing.” Jon says quietly, as if to keep the fact that he knew away from the detective upstairs. He leans against the wall, still trying to keep all of his injuries from strain, even days later.

Martin blinks before clearing his throat, “Not that much of a problem.”

Tim laugh surprised, “Cold as hell Martini Glass.”

Jon raises a brow and laughs slightly, it had been surprising to hear Martin be so petty but they should know, “As said by the Monopoly savage?”

“Oh come on not that nickname again!” Martin complained, and Sasha finally smiles. They feel a bit more relaxed now, surrounded less by tension and more by each other. Tim elbows Martin and Sasha, and then as suddenly as the mood shifted to lighter tones, it was drenched and destroyed as quick by the door to the Archives opening. 

Basira stared at them with something unreadbla ein her eyes, hidden by that cold exterior that she projected, “It seems that this case will be closed. Since no one else wanted to continue it.”

Her voice is hard as stone and they are all thankful that this might be over, even if the person who was really the killer stood above their heads. Still they found it strange, the case just called off like nothing. Did that mean Elias was off scott-free?

They worried, but the detective stared at them, “I know you four did something. I will find out what.”

The way she says it brings about that feeling of being watched, but different. Jon stands like a barrier though, between the officer and his people. He looked like he was going to start snarling at the bit if she doesn’t back off. Detective Hussain stands up tall, still scowling, glaring at the four of them. She leaves, and the feeling of being watched goes away. Jon’s still bristled, but his stiff posture was now a slouch, less worried about her shooting.

He leans back against Sasha, and she just carefully runs a hand through her hair. 

“That seems too lucky.” Martin mutters, fixing his jumper, dusting it off nervously. They stare at each other, and a tense feeling coats them like oil.


	19. The wolf bowed to the cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Wheres Daisy" Idk girl shes having a heart to heart

Jon isn’t quite sure how this happened, but he was sure that looking into the eyes of the cop he had gotten into a tussle with was not the first thing on his wishlist, maybe even the last. He stares nervously, twirling a hair around his finger, not sure what to do about this situation. He could yell for Sasha or Tim or Martin, but he doesn’t think he wants to put them in the situation that they would be in if he did so. 

  
  


“Are you… here to kill me?” He says quietly, cautiously getting ready to pounce if he needed to- or the better option with less injuries, jump over and attack and dart out of there. 

  
  


The cop stares and then lets out a bit of a laugh, it sounded a bit like a bark, if Jon wanted to be funny about this situation. Which he wasn’t going to be, seeing as he was about to hyperventilate. “No Sims, I’m here to talk.”

  
  


Nervous laughter spills from him, “Ok?” What does she want if she’s not going to kill him?

  
  


The woman sighs, “I suppose this isn’t a good thing to ask. Personal. How do you manage to… not hunt? You smell like me. And yet you don’t kill monsters. Don’t act like a monster, I know you are one, I can smell it on you, you’re like me and yet.”

  
  


Jon looks down at his palms, and he can feel his ears, the way his tails moves under the skirt, the way his feet are a bit cold because he’s torn more socks than he can count, the feeling of pawpads touching the floor, even as he was perched up on his chair, “I don’t know. I just, try not to listen, try not to hear that call to violence, to chase. I have my people. Martin, Tim, and Sasha. They’re like my… anchors. The reason I seem so… normal I suppose. Though I never have been.”

  
  


She looks at him, hands clenched; he wonders if his rambling had made her angry, “If they hadn’t been there for you, would you have killed me? You looked like you would, you looked... I can still feel claws on my neck.”

  
  


“...Probably.” He says this with pure anguish at himself. He tried not to think about that day, not after His friends had come and picked him up from the institute, they never brought it up, but he can tell with how they reassure him more often that he’s a good person, “I didn’t think, I thought, well. That you were going to hurt my people. And that scared me. So, that’s why, not an excuse for what I did, but yes. I think I would have. I’m sorry.”

  
  


Ex-Officer Tonner stares and then looks at her hands, thinks about all the blood she has spilled, about how many monsters weren’t really monsters, “You have people to keep you grounded.”

  
  


“Yes. I suppose I do.” Warmth bled into his tone, he pushes his hair out of his face and smoothing it back. He thought about giving himself a braid that say, a nice one, but had decided on not going for it. He wishes he had, “I think they’re the reason I haven’t… Gone rabid, in Elias’s words.” Jon spits the name out like a swear.

  
  


“How do they know you wont hurt them? Why do they deal with that part of you and still let you be human, and still be yourself?” She asks now, and Jon has to think for a moment. Has to think about the things that he loves about his friends, what they love about him, and he’s confident in his answer.

  
  


“They just accept me. And I do the same for them. They could hurt me, I could hurt them. It’s… equal that way. We won’t, and that’s what makes it nice.” He says, feeling softer, and looks over to the woman in the seat. The sad smelling wolf, bowing slightly to the cat. He sighs though, even if he likes where he is now, he has the same issues that Daisy does, sometimes. 

  
  


Sometimes when the night is too late, or too quiet, he can hear how his mind tells him how easy it would be, to run away, to snarl and bite and cause issues for everyone. To hunt for whatever he pleased. Instead he thinks about his people. Daisy didn’t have that though. Maybe she could.

  
  


He sees something like himself, someone like him before this Leitner changed him. 

  
  


“Call me Daisy.”

  
  


Jon stares and then gives a nervous smile, “Jon.”

  
  


Daisy smiles, and Jon nods. He thinks that this could be a friendship, and he reaches his hand across. Daisy takes his hand to shake, and they both feel each others claws on their wrist, and their scars almost look alike. They mirror each other in a way. Jon takes his hand back and then looks around, and then back at Daisy.

  
  


“What about Detective Hussain?” He remembers her bursting in there with her gun, pointing it at him. She seemed to care about Daisy, a lot. About her disappearance, so sure that Jon had been the reason, and well… maybe he was. 

  
  


Daisy sighs, and her look goes far off, “I don’t know if she liked me for me, or if she just liked the Hunt, liked what I could do.”

  
  


Jon sighs, he remembers his worries about being a pet, about only being useful as a house cat, he thinks he can sympathize. Even if his worries were off base, hers might not be, and he would want someone to help him in the same situation.

  
  


“I think we can work through it, if you’d like to be friends Daisy. We can fight of the blood.”

  
  


Daisy look hesitant, but Jon can see the smile threatening her face. She stands up and Jon does as well, headbutting her on the arm. She laughs confusedly.

  
  


“Woah Sims what was that for?”

  
  


He gives a shrug, “Get used to it. That’s what comes with being friends.:

  
  


Daisy laughs slightly, and leaves the room. As she leaves the Archives he can see Tim, Sasha, and Martin coming down. They look worried, and Jon walks to them, headbutts them, before telling them what just happened. It seems he would be taking another person for his tiny pack, and he can’t find it in himself to be annoyed that she knows how to fight. 

  
  


She could be apart pf his people, not as close as Tim, Sasha, and Martin. But… He thinks he could learn to love being her friend, she had more strength than he did, coming for help without three people swarming her with love. 

  
  


Jon hums, and works sitting by Sasha’s desk, not wanting to be alone in his office at the moment. Every once in a while he will feel eyes on him, or someone coming and going into the breakroom, the warmth seeping out of a mug of tea placed besides him. He feels the soft underglow of tenderness in the moment, and he thinks that he could get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey if I dont update for a few days I am very sorry. I'm deaing with some things but I will try my hardest to bring more chapters :)


	20. Things are happening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi I said I might not update and then remembered my coping mechanism of choice was writing so B) new chapter already.
> 
> Anyway shits going down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: 
> 
> \- Dehumanization  
> \- Elias  
> \- Basira   
> \- Mentions of the Marks  
> \- Again. Hella dehumanization due to Elias being a fuckface.

Daisy looked at her phone, at all the messages she hadn’t opened from Basira. The calls from old coworkers that had questioned why she left, ask what finally broke her after it all. Therapy wasn’t an options, she had thought to herself after only a few days into running from her issues. Still her hand, with unruly grown out nails hovered over the call button on the contact. Maybe it was talking to Jon that had made her curious, made her wonder if Basira wanted to be there for her, even after Daisy outlived her usefulness. 

  
  


With a small outtake of breath, she turns her phone off, and walks away from it, on her shitty couch that came with the new flat. Daisy walks away from the old life. She was making herself a new one. She had friends outside of the polie force, she had met Jon, met Melanie and Georgie, hell she’s been online doing freelance busy work just to make rent. People from her gym know her now, regular people.

  
  


Daisy had been decorating her small flat, had sold three of her safehouses, had taken up therapy. She doesn’t know if Basira will respect that., doesn’t know if she can even rebuild that bridge that she had burned in a rush while drunk off of blood loss. 

  
  


She lingers only feet away, wanting to leave it all behind. Daisy didn’t want to be a cop anymore, didn’t want to be whatever the police signified. Then she went back to it, and pressed the call button.

  
  


She would never know if she didn’t try.

  
  
  


\-------------

  
  


Elias was getting angry, the Archivist was only marked by five entities, the Eye, the Hunt -- which was running much deeper than he wanted it too--, the Flesh, the Corruption, and the Web. It was going a lot slower than he would have liked, this being Jon’s what, second year as Archivist? While some of the harder marks, such as the Flesh and the Web, had pleased him to no end, the Archivist was becoming a bit more unruly than he had wanted him to be.

  
  


He thinks back again to the jokes of needing a leash and muzzle, and wonders if he truly would have to do something like that. 

  
  


Jon was less scared of these things, and more angered by them. He couldn’t even hire the cop and her detective, they had both declined. The slaughter touched woman had also said no, in a very disgusted tone, and he knows that someone told her about the workplace. Her curiosity was not higher than her self preservation, nor the love for that End touched woman. Georgie was her name. Speaking of, the end touched woman would not even open any mail sent by the institute. 

  
  


The Stranger table had not taken anyone, and certainly not the original target of Sasha James. So the Archivist was leaning on other people for support. He was close with them, chared a home with these people, went to dinners and sleepovers and watched movies in other people’s laps like a housepet.

  
  


If this became too out of hand he was going to have to do something drastic. Jon was so… possessive of those little archive people, and that ex-cop. Elias can almost respect how protective the Archivist is over it’s things, he can almost be proud of how much the leitner made the Archivist collect people like stories, entity touched people like a mixed bag of candy. Still.

  
  


An idea strikes Elias, he didn’t want to start from scratch, no that would be too troublesome, he looks at his phone and calls up an old friend.

  
  


\-------

  
  
  


Jon sits in his office, staring at the walls, at everything. He wanted to know these archives like the back of his hand, wanted to have his territory be in the correct place, files in their correct area, office supplies in their drawer, his people roaming wherever they choose and being able to know this place as he does. He wants to share his place. Mindlessly, he taps his nails against the hollow wood of his desk, the soft noise keeping him from slipping off into deeper thoughts. 

  
  


He feels an unspeakable twisting in his gut, and Jon needed to get out of his office. He closes the door behind himself but quickly goes into the break room just to breath. Sasha is there, staring at him confused and he just goes over to be near someone. She allows it, and finishes making herself coffee. 

  
  


Jon had changed so much, he thinks back now. His whole personality hadn’t changed, but his expression did. These weird thoughts that came with the leitner still lingered, and now that he thinks about it, those thoughts about this being his domain made him uneasy, no matter how many times his people- no his friends, told him.

  
  


The archives door opens to Elias, and he looks at the two of them with a raised brow. Jon’s tail flicks in annoyance, but he still looks at Elias, back straightening slightly. The man looks both displeased, and yet proud of himself. As he reaches the bottom of the steps he clears his throat.

  
  


Jon can smell something off, something like cigarette smoke, something like salt, “Elias. What do we owe the visit?”

  
  


Elias gives one his signature annoying smiles, smug and slime ridded like a can of worms, “I am here to tell everyone an important announcement. Along with other exciting news.”

  
  


Tim and Martin come into the room, hearing the foreign voice, and Elias claps, “There we go, the whole archives crew. So. I have an announcement.”

  
  


“And you couldnt have emailed us about it? I thought that you would do that if this involved the whole institute.” Tim asked, staring at them the man; he was in fight mode, back slightly straightened. Martin looked much the same, though he was good at hiding the ferocity in his eyes, something Jon had admired. Jon lightly shakes himself and focuses on something other than Martin.

  
  


Elias rolls his eyes, hands placidly going up in the air, “No, this seems like something I should day to everyone in person. I will be away for a few months, and a… Business partner will be taking for a while, and he needs an assistant. Which, the position will go to Martin. Peter Lukas is acting director and head, so if you have any questions, I’m sure he will answer them.”

  
  


Jon immediately bristled, “Did you even ask him before promoting him?”

  
  


Martin looks like this was a question he wanted to know the answer to as well, “Yeah, no. I can’t take that position.”

  
  


Elias raised a brow at the four of them, “Oh and why is that?”

  
  


“We-wha- I.” Martin strumbled for a second, “I am not qualified to be an assistant to the head of institute.”

  
  


“You do almost the same work you do in the archives. And theres a payraise, benefits, such and such. Either way, in the contracts you all signed, it said you are liable for promotions or job switches at any time, which I assume everyone read through. I can give you all copies of your contracts, if you’d prefer.” He gestures, though he looked absolutely pleased as punch that none of them truly read their contracts. If they had, he knows they wouldn’t have taken the job. 

  
  


Elias could hear their thoughts, loud and angry, ‘he can’t do that’, ‘this isn’t right’, ‘this fucker thinks’, ‘he can’t take my people,’. Maybe they had all taken on Jon’s silly ‘mark’ as something to emulate, and now that he looks he can see the hooks of the eye and the hunt deep in all three of the archival assistants, just as deep as the stranger, the corruption, and the lonely. He really should have stopped that early on, but there was no use teaching old cats new tricks.

  
  


The Archive is so possessive over it’s things. 

  
  


Jon was feeling something stir in his gut again. He couldn’t just let Elias take his people! They were not Elias’s to barter and manipulate and play with, and Jon was feeling an edge of protectiveness that bordered on feral. 

  
  


Elias simply smiled at them, “That is all truly, the new position will start Monday of next week. I will be informed on the going-arounds of the institute, but will be busy. Again as I said earlier, email Peter Lukas for details. I will email you all the details about this job change, coming with your own office and other some such.”

  
  


Martin blinks, and they all feel a rise of defeat. What can they do? This helplessness was exactly what Elias was looking for, and he smiles pleasantly with that edge of something inhuman, “That will be all. Thank you.”

  
  


As he leaves, the archival team look at the door, then at each other. 

  
  


What are they going to do?


	21. The once fly now king

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this seems really weird, but well ;)
> 
> Dreams always have meanings.

Jon feels content to be alone at the moment, his thoughts were confusing him, and that was worrying. Ear twitching and head hurting. (His people.) (Those that Knew) (The one that Watches) (Claw out his eyes.) (This wasn’t who he was.)

  
  


He sits there, breathing in the smell of papers and then he sits up suddenly. He needed…. Something. Something from artifact storage. Why had be been laying in the stacks anyway? Either way, he shakes his head, walking to the door to Artifact Storage, the walk both slower and faster than it should be. There was something to know down there, and down he goes. No one is there. Why is there no one in storage? There should be diligent guards, usually Sonja is better about that, but here he is, getting through. It was like the whole institute was desolate, empty like a shell.

  
  


Jon is drawn farther and farther into Artifact Storage, something rippling under his skin, not physically; something else. He can feel his thoughts again, crowding much too tightly in his head, coming in waves. (It watches). (He watches). (His people). (His person). (He doesn’t belong here)

  
  


(This isn’t how the world should go.) 

  
  


The stacks are tall, glinting objects catch his eye, but he pays no mind to them, not when he understood that something bigger was waiting. Prowling this place almost like it was the archives. It did not taste of home, but for some reason that’s not what Jon was thinking of. He sped ahead, only stopping briefly when he saw something in a mirror. 

  
  


Himself. Long grey and black hair tied in an intricate braid and pinned up, scars heavy and still on his visible skin, but he almost thought of it like kitsungi. Pretty, fitting. He wonders.

  
  


His eyes stare back, gold and resplendent, wide and framed by eyelashes much longer than he remembered. He does not flinch back at the extras opening around his face, golden eyes stared from his forehead, his cheek. He thinks that he likes them. He likes the him he sees. His ears flicker like flames in the cold air. Strong. Jon looks strong. There is pride in his face, warm. He looks warmer, bolder, more alive. His teeth are sharp, his eyes are sharper.

  
  


(He like the creature he sees.) (But would Martin like that man?) (They love you.) (You don’t have to worry about them leaving you.) (They’ve stayed this long)

  
  


He looks at his hands, and his wrists are covered in bracelets and chains of gold. It’s pretty he thinks. Nails sharp enough to cut, still fitting his hand, curved in an almost elegant way. He’s wearing rings, a few flickering and shining in the light. When did he start wearing jewelry? Jon rather likes the way they look.

  
  


Finally his mind snaps back to his original task, stalking back down the shelves of evil books, through the cursed childrens toys, and he finds the lead he’s following feels invigorating. The mirror falls behind in his mind. The sound of his jewelry steadied him, clinking softly as the click of his nails on the floor pushed him farther.

  
  


At the end of his walk he looks upon a table, one with hypnotic web like patterns, leading to a missing middle spot. His eyes circle around it for a second, before he looks up and sees it. An elongated looking creature staring at him. It’s face changes by the second, and he still looks at it. 

  
  


It speaks like static, like tongues long forgotten, it smiles with too many teeth, yet Jon does not feel scared. As he stares, it cocks his head. He backs up, and it takes a step back as well. As he moves it mimics, and he tries to speak, and all that comes out is a cat-like noise. It stares, and them mimics the noise back at him. It’s too many limbs shift and change, and there sits a cat.

  
  


He laughs, a startled noise, even when he wasn’t scared.

  
  


“An archivist who isn’t scared, is not useful to the watcher. Yet is adored by the everprowl. Loved by both yet not fully either. Playing a game of cat and mouse with the largest predators.”

  
  


The words confuse Jon, flitting around his brain like uncatchable bugs, flying away. He wants to jump and understand, hold the knowing in his claws like it was a tangible thing. 

  
  


“The Beholder watches, and with no reluctance it shares it’s bounty with the Everchase. The hunt passes the prey to it’s kin, those that it loves. The one it loves of fog: the one that watches: the one that laughs in the face of death, the fearless: the one that howls and hunts: the one that escaped the web. The Eye watches but the watcher weaves. It’s plan is twisted like a lie, the fly is now a king.”

  
  


Jon tries to understand what that means, trying to see what that means. The cat laughs in a grotesque way, distorted and wrong approximation of a human laugh. His confusion is palpable, but he can also tell that the message is important; still keeping his attention from slipping was hard.

  
  
  


“The Archivist stalks ever closer to an ending, the Watcher wants a crown but the Eye is content in its fear-”

  
  


\-------

  
  
  


“-Jon? Jon wake up!” 

  
  


He blinks blearily and looks up to see Sasha, Tim, and Martin standing over him worried. He looks around and sees that he’s in the stacks. They must have worried when he didn’t come out. Jon blinks a few times, trying to understand what any of the quickly fleeting dream meant. Sasha puts a hand on his head chackng his temperature. 

  
  


He sits up, rubbing his head and pushing hair out of his face, “Must not have gotten enough sleep last night. I apologize.”

  
  


“I’m just glad you’re not dead, goodness.” Martin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You are going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”

  
  


Tim pats Jon’s head, “Alright it’s time to get home. We’ve been looking for you for like two hours.”

  
  


“Ah.” He flinches, “Sorry-”

  
  


“It’s alright, we would rather look or you than work.” Tim says, and Jon rolls his eyes now, a small smile on his face. He gets up and stretches, flexing his clawed hands oer his head. The dream is slowly leaving his mind, and the feeling of being watched was slipping away, as Jon bitched about the workspace, and they laugh at him, whic spurs further complaints. As they go home, Jon can’t help but wonder what the dream meant, even though the details slipped away.

  
  


They get to their home after a long drive, with Martin playing music this time. Jon still feels like hes missing something. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confusing dreams? In my catboy fanfic? 
> 
> Damn. Imagine having a plot


	22. A Statement About Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I need you all to notice something before this chapter.
> 
> Daisy/Basira isn't tagged
> 
> Goodluck

Sasha lets out a triumphant noise, “Hah! Found what I was looking for. Peter Lukas and all 37 statements about him, or relating to a man that matches his description.”

  
“Has anyone told you that you’re scary when you get all- spooky determination-y?” Tim says, though he looks the opposite of scared, and more smitten then anything. Martin snorts, and then coughs after inhaling some tea, to which Sasha laughs at him. Jon looks up from his pulled up seat at Martin’s desk -- they were all sitting there to show Martin that the ugly bastard upstairs could promote him but he was stuck with them for a long long while-- and tries to hide his smile.

  
After letting everyone get their giggles out, Sasha waved her hand at the piled folders on her corner of the desk, “These all mention that man, and others that seem connected to him.”

  
She had gone on a scouting mission, tearing through folders metaphorically and skimming to find any that even mentioned the name. A lot were about a boat, and some where about the sea. 

  
Jon then gestures to his own stacked pile, “The other 32.”

  
He himself had gone prowling into the stacks, somehow finding a lot, but not as much as Sasha even with his newfound ability to somehow know where specific statements were. She was more capable than him even with his new territory.

  
Tim had stayed with Martin, but had done his own research on the computer. Martin made tea out of stress, and then went along with researching with Tim. 

  
“I win!” Sasha gloats and Jon rolls his eyes, but he prefers this mood the the dower one from earlier. He would prefer anything to that actually. “So these all have something in common, other than Peter Lukas. It also talks about a list of things such as: the Lukas family as a whole, someone named Simon Fairchild, boats, and the ocean.”

  
“And his connection to something made out of fog?” Martin says, skimming through one that he had found, the quotes it, “‘Like the man had just breathed the smoke into the world to cloud your vision- to hide himself.’”

  
Something about these statements made a chill run up Jon’s spine.

  
“Do you think he’s like Elias?”

  
“No he’s a different kind of spooky.” Martin quips, “It seems more… about being isolated? And Elias is about being Watched.”

  
“Being alone.” Jon says, pretending that the word spooky was never uttered, and something clicks in all of their heads.

  
“That motherfucker.” Tim seethed, and Martin seemed to pale.

\------------

Daisy sat across from Basira at the cafe, and she felt like she was sitting with a stranger. Basira was never cold with her, and here they were, like icicles doomed to stay only feet away, never melting like the glaciers in those deep black eyes. She wanted to say something, anything- literally anything would be better than getting these daggers glared into her soul. Jon and Basira had perfected the ‘I see your soul and find it lacking’ look, Daisy thinks.

  
“Basira.”

  
“Alice.” 

  
Daisy winced, “I deserve that.”

  
“Yeah you do.” Basira says, her arms crossed, she was so angry, but then again Daisy looked like a beaten down dog. “You have anything you can even excuse yourself with? Any reason why you cut me off for what- weeks? Gone. Dead air. Absolutely nothing. I thought you had died. Thought that something happened to you.”

  
She takes a deep breath and runs a hand through her hair, growing ragged now after she had buzzed it off one night. She doesn’t like the buzzcut, Daisy had decided, and wanted it to grow back, wanted to look less like she had just escaped bootcamp. She would never perfect that soft look that some people could give off, and she didn’t want to. Daisy was dangerous, but she didn’t want that to be all that people think about her. She could play a family dog.

  
“I quit.” Daisy started, and then stopped. 

  
“I know.” Basira says, cutting off any further thoughts, looking irritated now.

  
“I couldn’t do it anymore. Not after…” She doesn’t know how to phrase it, “I don’t want to be a killer anymore Basira. You know how many of those ‘monsters’ were just like me? Were people with families? Had mates waiting for them at the bar? I can't keep taking that from people.”

  
The silence is deafening to her ears, the sound of a coffee machine whirring in the back of the cafe was soft, yet did nothing to ease her.

  
“How many of those people were hurt just because I wanted to play go fetch with a framed criminal? How many people did I brutalize in the name of justice when they didn’t do anything to warrant that.” Daisy looks at the cooling coffee. She used to love black coffee, but not it tasted like sludge in her mouth, this cup was an unneeded expense to try and feel familiarity. She should have chosen a tea.

  
Basira stares at her as if she was something new and foreign. As if she didn’t know who Daisy was anymore. And maybe she didn't. Maybe Daisy was glad about that.

  
“I can’t pretend to be a good guy anymore Basira. I wasn’t a good guy, not when I was in the force. But I can try to be better, and… And I think I’m learning to be a person again.” She repeated what her therapist told her in her head. She can be a person, she can be better, Daisy was in control of her own fate.

  
The confused look in Basira’s eye just made Daisy need to talk more, to try and explain it to her, just so that she could have that spark she was so used to seeing, “I want you to be here with me while I learn, we can learn together.” She extends a hand, just like the hand Jon extended to her. ‘We can learn together, we can fight the blood.’

  
A soft hand in hers made Daisy look up at Basira, and she felt that dull hope that beat in her chest, steady as her heart, grow brighter. 

\-------------

Martin watches as the others flip through folders, and he knows they’re trying to learn everything about Peter Lukas, so that they can stop something from happening to him. It’s a comfort, to feel Tim leaning against his side, Sasha slinging her feet up onto his lap- sans shoes because she wouldn’t be rude like that-, Jon leaning against his shins as he read through statements. Sometimes he could feel crowded, but right now it was nice.

  
“He can’t isolate you if you live with three other people, specially ones that are as touchy as we all seem to be.” Jon says to himself. 

  
“So what are we going to do to combat the Morton’s salt boy?” Tim says, and Martin snorts again, Sasha hid her face with a statement even though they could see her shaking with laughter. Jon takes a scond to connect the joke before he lets out a surprised guffaw. 

  
Sasha grins now, and evil conspiring tone shining in her eyes like a beacon of joy, a lighthouse of hope in their situation, “I have so many ideas.”

  
“Oh that’s certainly a look there Sasha.” Jon says, raising a brow.

  
Tim gets an almost identical gleam in his eye, “Sasha I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

  
“Sharing a brain cell are we?” Martin asks, and then smiles.

  
Jon turns to look at them, and stands up from his spot on the floor, “I do think I have a few ideas myself.”

  
“Share share share!” Sasha crows, before getting out her notebook and writing down all her ideas, as if they wont be in the front of their minds the whole time Peter Lukas sets his sorry feet into the institute. They were going to ruin his plans and make his life hell. They were going to make everything supernatural that tried to hurt them regret it.


	23. They can heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hmmmm I am sorry for this yall! 
> 
> TW:
> 
> -Breakups  
> \- The Lonely  
> \- Plukas slimeball  
> \- mentions of police

The Monday that they had been dreading rolled around like an oppressive imperious fog, something that killed like a cigarette, not leaving a pleasant buzz behind but a deep chill that rolled through their bones like an ocean’s fresh mist. They had gotten to work, just a few minutes late, enjoying their banter with one another, savoring the warmth that came with familiarity before they marched straight into the unknown factor. 

  
  


Even if they were late, seconds into walking into the lobby, they were met with just one person. Rosie must have decided the cold was too biting and went to get a jacket from her car, they had seen her walking by annoyed. Either way, Peter Lukas was waiting for them; less them and more waiting for Martin. Like a venus flytrap, a snapping trap. Jon felt himself bristle and glared into Peter’s soul. 

  
  


“Ah. Archives. You’re a bit late, but I’ll overlook that!” His voice is jovial in a hollow way that echoes in your chest cavity. He had a nice voice, if he had decided not to be a bitch of a friend stealer they might have preferred that voice to the slimy swuavness of Elias. And yet he is a bitchass best friend stealer so they didn’t want to hear it. 

  
  


Sasha glared daggers onto the man, Tim harsh look was enough to make any man stutter. 

  
  


Peter cleared his throat, “Well. Seeing as he’s here now, I think you three can go down to the archives now.”

  
  


Jon stares still, and Peter started to shift uncomfortably. Martin watches his friends and feels a shoot of warmth. Either way, it seems this wouldn’t last long. God it was so cold in the building. They all wished they had brought a scarf, or maybe gloves.

  
  


“Martin come along. We can talk about this in the big office, and I can show you to yours.” Peter now glares back, Martin shakes his head at the other three. They have to at least pretend that they’ll listen to him, and then when he thinks he’s safe they’ll pounce and force awkward small talk onto him at every given moment. 

  
  


Martin follows, and he can already feel his phone buzzing with reminders that if Peter ended up being a creep- go for the eyes. Martin rolled his in response, he was a big guy- certainly not small- and while Peter was taller and small bit heaftier, he thinks he could take him. He’s spent enough time around Daisy and Jon and Tim to handle whatever violence could be thrown his way. 

  
  


\---------

  
  


Jon paced the archives, feeling agitated that his people were separated, Martin was with the lonely creep and Tim and Sasha had to run and grab paperclips along with other assorted office items from the nearest store- on the company card since they had badgered and needled Elias until he gave into their pestering. Daisy was talking with Basira, but she hadn’t checked in since yesterday and he was slightly worried Basira shot her. There was a lot going on that he  _ didn’t know about!  _

  
  
  


He wishes he didn’t feel on the edge of a breakdown all of the time. _ This is the worst. _ His agitation seemed to radiate in the archives, reflecting and in turn making the room feel alive with frustration; he finally growls to nothing in particular, grabbing a box of statements and moving them around, before throwing off his hat and going deeper into the stacks.

  
  


The Archives was so cold; his heating pad had just given it’s last hurrah and died on him. So Jon tugs his cardigan closer and walks around th stacks, manuvering through, before he finds a shelf that has a space empty of boxes. He looks around, as if anything could watch him in his archives, and jumps up. Hole in one! Jon had jumped into the little slot, the only injury he incurred was a bruised shin. 

  
  


Still, he sat there, and saw a tape recorder, already running with soft whirring and snapping. He wonders how it still had tape, how long it had been on, who turned it on; hair standing on end as he plucks the recorder up with clawed hands.. 

  
  


“Huh. This shouldn’t be here.” Jon says quietly, before turning it off, and then remembering that he did have a job. “Well at least it was helpful? Might as well be useful while I’m here.”

  
  


\-------

  
  


Martin sits in his tiny desk as Peter talks and talks. He has an awful love of his voice for a man who likes to be alone with his thoughts, nothing but void to deal with, reflecting his own voice. Martin wanders if this is his evil plan, to talk until Martin literally offs himself; irritate Martin so much that he just walks off to be alone forever so the old man will shut up?

  
  


“Are you listening?”

  
  


“Yes sir.” Martin says, tiredly looking up at the man. He swears if he says one more thing Martin was going to catch a murder charge. And he would ask Daisy to help him hide it. Wait no she doesn’t want to murder anymore, he’ll ask Melanie. 

  
  


Peter looks at him, “A rule though, just a few.”

  
  


Martin blinks, and waits for the rules to be told to him, “I need you to not interact with people at work, and maybe go home instead of going out, as much as you can. Working alone is always better, and I think it gives better results. Also Emails are the way to reach me, Elias said that you would be the best for this position, and I expect good things.”

  
  


“Ok…” Martin could play this game. This man could try and manipulate him, but Martin was better at it, he had years of pretending to be chill under his belt. It wasn’t like Peter was as subtle as he thought he was being. He could pretend now. It’s not like Peter could tell him to not go home. Fucker. Doesn’t even know that Martin lives with his friends, doesn’t know that those three people like to cuddle more than anything. Even Elias didn’t know that. Peter doesn’t know that the Archives crew know about what he does. They know him better than he knows them. “Sounds good. Is there anything else you need? I’d prefer to be alone while I work, as you said.”

  
  


Peter smiles, “ok. I’ll let you be.” he leaves the room and Martin immediately opens his laptop and pulls his phone out like a kid in sixth form trying to sneak in their electronics in class. 

  
  


**Martin** : Ok so change of plans. No one interact with me. Trust me I know what I’m doing. I just need you all to annoy the hell out of Peter. 

  
  


**Tim** : I hate this plan wtf

  
  


**Martin** : Trust me. I’ll be ok, I have a plan. I just need to pretend like I’m lonely and sad, then I go home with you guys, and then I can pry secrets out of him. He’s not subtle at all, and he’s stupid. If it gets too much I promise I’ll tell you guys.

  
  


**Sasha** : Martin you’re so cool, have i told you that?

  
  


**Martin** : :))!!! You have but it’s nice to hear. 

  
  


**Jon** : Be safe ok? I trust you, but I’ll kill him for you, if needed.

  
  


**Tim** : Same. I’ll tear him open with a plastic fork.

  
  


**Sasha:** I wont do anything ;) At least. I wont leave evidence. 

  
  


**Jon** : Good Sasha had plausible deniability. So thats a no on bringing hot chocolate up to you?

  
  


**Martin:** :(( Yeah. But. When we all get home we can make something homey to eat <3

  
  


**Tim** : FUCK YEAH ROAST TIME!!!

  
  


**Sasha** : You’re on catnip Tim

  
  


**Tim** : haha speaking of Catnip- Jon Georgie showed me that video

  
  


**Jon** : Do not bring that up

  
  


**Tim** : What’re you gonna do? Huh? Meow angrily at me? little ma

**Tim** : HELP

  
  


**Sasha** : AKJFHLSKDJFHSDF HE DIED,

**Sasha** : JON JUST JUMPED AT HM FROM A SHELF HOW DID HE GET UP THERE.

**Sasha** : TIMS FUCKING DEAD HELP AHAHA

  
  


Martin smiled at his phone, and then silenced the small group-message they have, which had been named cottagecore homies. Then he starts up on his work, and silently plots his ideas. He could be smarter than an old money sailor with a penchant for divorce. So as he did his work he sat up straight, and listened to music that his friends had showed him. It was almost like they were there with him.

  
  
  


\---------

  
  


Basira looks at Daisy’s flat, looking around as if the very air was strange. It had been a little funny to see her friend, her partner, so blindsided, but still. Were they still what they were before? Romantic without a label? The slightly mangy couch was enough for Basira to sit down, and Daisy went about getting snacks. She still only had jerky, but it worked better than offering Basira nothing. 

  
  


“So.” Basira says, and even thought they had travelled here together, Daisy’s heart dropped, that tone implied something she wasn’t prepared for, “When- why did you come to that conclusion? What, what brought this all on?”

  
  


She wanted to understand, but Daisy still hates the idea of telling her, “I met someone like me.”

  
  


Something clicks, “Jonathan Sims?”

  
  


Daisy sighed, “Yeah. Him. We got into a real fight when they found me in the house, and well. I learned something, that I don’t have to have that thrill to be happy. If we had killed him, we’d be leaving people mourning, people who aren’t really normal because of where they work. But if you died I would mourn, and aren’t we Monsters too? Suppose I saw a connection.”

  
  


Basira looked at her, and Daisy cut off whatever she’s going to say, “Basira I know you think we were doing good. I know you hate when people are not being useful, I know you more than you think, ok? I just want to share my life with you- and if you don’t like the person I am, you can leave and lose my number.”  _ No matter how much that would hurt Daisy. Basira is her people. _

  
  


Theres a breath of silence and then again a hand in hers, she can feel their calluses, years of hard work from both of them. Years of hand in hand.

  
  


“Ok Daisy. Ok. I-” She stops and looks away from the others searching eyes, “I don’t know you anymore. You’ve changed so much, and I don’t know what to do.”

  
  


She always hated being confused. Hated not knowing what was coming next- hated when things didn’t go the way they thought it might. That was something Daisy knew, deeply.

  
  


“That’s ok. We can work through it. Or you can go back to the Police Force, I wont be mad.” Daisy says, and in her heart she feels a deep knowing, that she couldn’t stay angry at Basira. But she can’t let Basira enable her again, can’t fall back into her old habits. It’s finally a choice that made her feel in control, of the hidden hunger, in control of the blood. “I want you to be here with me, but I won’t let you change me.”

  
  


The hunt isn’t Daisy, she doesn’t want to run and kill and maim. She want’s to protect people, run with friends, go out for drinks with friends, but she couldn’t do that in the police force, couldn’t do that the way things were operating. She should’t get a paycheck for making people scared. Daisy didn’t want to be a monster. 

  
  


“That’s exactly what I wanted to say.” Basira said softly, “I want you to be here, but you can’t change me.”

  
  


Daisy sighed, “I know I can’t. Basira if I hang around you, listen to you talk about the force, listen to you leave for hunts- just like before- I’ll destroy the little things I’ve worked for.”

  
  


Basira looks at her, searching, and Daisy feels a pang of terror. Was she going to let their friendship go? 

  
  


Yes. She could do that.

  
  


“Basira. I can be here for you if you ever change your mind. You can always count on me.” Daisy said finally, taking her hand back, “But I’m different now, you’re my best friend, my everything, but we’re different now. Your values arent mine anymore. I think it’s best that we don’t talk anymore.

  
  


They were both headstrong people. Daisy was like a mule, kicking and biting when she needed, stubborn as hell. Now wasn’t an exception. Basira had trouble taking herself away from the things she thought was right, her sense of justice mattered more than people did. That was what brought them together at first, the chase, the thought of justice, how good of a team they were together. Now it was what brought them apart.

  
  


Daisy was stupid to think that she could change Basira, but that foolish love in her heart will stay locked there, until it dies, or until Daisy is too weak to resist it, or until Basira changes her mind. She would sooner ask the earth to stop turning, than she asked Basira to change. Changing Basira’s mind is like trying to change a bull into a hound dog. Impossible for mere mortals.

  
  


Basira looks at her, her hands clenching, “Daisy… ok. Ok.” She stands up, “I guess this is goodbye then?”

  
  


“Maybe it is. I think it has to be.” Daisy says, getting up to walk Basira to the door. She could be a good host, “I love you Basira. I’m sorry it worked out this way.”

  
  


“Yeah. I’m sorry Daisy. But I cant throw away my lifes work, can’t throw my life away for you.”

  
  


Daisy looks at Basira, at how her eyes grow darker in the badly lit light of her flat, “And I can’t throw away my progress, even if I want to, for you.”

  
  


“I love you too Daisy. I hope… I hope that you’re happy.” Basira pauses by the door, as if Daisy might pause, and Daisy wants to. Wants to go back to what she knew before, but she was a stubborn woman.

  
  


“You too Basira.” Daisy waited a pause, and the Basira opened the door, a lingering glance backwards, and then she went down the stairs. Daisy watched, as she got into her car and left. She goes into her room, and she brutalizes her pillows, screams muffled into the blankets. Heartbreak hurt. 

  
  


But Daisy could heal.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Key reminder, that you are doing so well. People are proud of how you've grown, and if you've had tp cut people off because of it, then thats ok. You can grow and heal, even if not everything seems perfect.


	24. 100 Ways to Annoy Your New Boss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wish you all a merry 'Fuck Plukas's Day Up' Day, the national holiday!

Peter Lukas had not been ready for the utter storm he was in for, not when he had isolated himself in Elias’s office. Mostly people talked to Rosie, and Martin did all of the heavy work, since Peter didn’t really care to have a hand in that. He didn’t expect Martin Blackwood give in this easy, Elias had said that he and the other archives staff were close. It seems Elias had gotten it wrong, he thought with a self-satisfied smile on his face.

As he sat in the office he checked his usually empty email, he was baffled by the thirty four emails from the three from downstairs, and thirty something from random stores. Soon his phone started to ring over and over; unknown numbers, spam calls, some from restricted numbers, too many to count. He set his phone to silent and felt an anxious spike in his stomach.

Peter sat his laptop and phone inside the desk, and sat down, hoping that this was just a fluke.

\--------

It was not a fluke.

Tim grinned as he help up the laptop, “I’ve sent his number to every spam caller and scammer that I can imagine, and sent his email address to every American store for a subscription to their shitty newsletters. The most raunchy, horrible, cheesy sites I could get my hands on.”

Sasha laughed in joyous malicious glee, she was having way too much fun and so was Tim, “I’ve set alarms for every hour on his phone with the most obnoxiously upbeat songs I could pirate with my grubby little hands. His phone is so easy to hack this wasn't even hard.”

Jon had been mysteriously quiet while typing away at his phone, but he looks up with ears twitching and quietly says, “I’ve sent him a dancing letter.”

“One of those things where people deliver a message while singing and dancing?” Tim asks, with a reverence for that level of pranking. Jon nods, and looks very proud of himself. Like the cat who got the cream, and Tim ruffled his hair. “Even with your evil genius I’m still keeping that catnip video.”

“Yes yes yes, ok, again I’m sorry for jumping on you. Will you ever let that go?” He said semi-irritably

“Nope! Like a flying menace you are, you looked like a bat out of hell.” Tim says before Sasha taps the table to get their attention. 

She shows them something else she had done, “I just ordered signs and traffic cones. If you write on the door to' come talk to the head of institute about anything that’s troubling you', I think Lukas will enjoy that.”

“Genius, pure evil genius.” Tim grins even more, "He'll love people trying to use him for therapy."

“Has Martin emailed you that schedule yet?” Jon asks, leaning in closer with his pupils wide, and Sasha beams, nodding.

“Mhm!” She turns her laptop back to herself and pulls up her inbox, “Martin is really killing this you know.”

“Yes I know, he’s great at everything he does, show us the email.” Jon says impatiently, and then freezes when he realizes he was being very complimentary there, before shaking his head and looking at the screen. It was done in perfect spreadsheets, with time’s as exact as they could get when talking about someone unpredictable. 

Tim leaps up out of his sea, pointing at the time, “Oh Christ, someone’s gotta go meet him, he’s going through his daily moping and I would like to flex my annoyance skills.”

“Wait wait wait don’t go alone he might spooky teleport you.” Sasha says and Jon stands up, dusting off his skirt and adjusting his hat. 

“I’m coming, lets go.” He gathers some papers, and their evil plan is in motion. Sasha stays at her desk as the other two go to annoy the ever-loving shit out of the lonely sailor, still looking at ways to annoy him without you know, doxing him. She had some morals at least, not many when it came to supernatural friend stealers, but still some. An idea hits her like a car and she knocks her seat down in her hurry; running to grab something from the stacks. 

\-------

“Yes I understand the importance of kayaking with a friend now Tim, please leave me alone, I have work to do.” Peter grumbles irritably, and Tim hides his self-congratulatory face fairly well, all of them now taking acting classes from their friend Martin. They were going to need it, to not seem like intentionally bullying, but to still annoy him as much as possible without getting blasted away to the fog dimension. It's not like Peter could send them all away, since Elias had this weird obsession with the Archives. 

Jon hummed, “yes well, we need you to sign a few papers as head of the institute, you know, usual business.” He was still staring at Peter Lukas without blinking, much like a cat watching birds outside a window sans the chittering. Everyone who went under that stare usually were very unsettled; except for his people, who all found it slightly cute, if still strange. 

“Yes yes, if I take the documents, will you leave me alone?” He asked with the tired and frustrated voice only someone who had incurred the hellish rage of three archive workers could muster. 

Tim shrugged, “I dunno, think it’d be easier if we just started giving the documents to Martin, we do so miss him downstairs, but I’m sure he’s just a social butterfly up in his office. And I know he does most of the work anyway.” Tim says pointedly.

Peter huffed, and then thought about it for a second, “Fine just give them to Martin, just leave me be!”

They had been talking to him for exactly time of twenty nine minutes and forty seven seconds before he had snapped, a record! Tim could have kept talking about the specifics of kayaking and the physics of the rivers near there where people could take their friends and family at but Peter looked so annoyed and blue in the face from being unable to just banish this small social interaction, Tim decided to leave that long and boring monotonous topic for later, when he had more time to annoy the man. 

Jon hid his absolutely smug little smile and they turned away after Tim had given long, long goodbyes, and Peter rushed away as soon as possible. 

When they walked down to the Archives, Sasha was digging arounds for something and she leveled them both with the most grotesque and self satisfied face they’ve seen on her since ever. In her hand held up triumphantly they could see-

“A speaker!” Tim gasped in delight.

“Not just one speaker Tim, seven.” She pushes over a small box of them, and the three begin plotting on how to get them into Elias’s, now Peter’s, office to blast Sea Shanties. Not just any sea shanties, but the ones that encouraged the most joyful togetherness that the lonely old man’s head would just explode from. 

\--------

Martin sat in the office, and smiled at the email updates, deleting them quickly though, just in case someone went through his inbox, he knew there were more than enough nosy people in the institute. Martin shivered at how cold it was in the office, but he was starting to get used to how numb it felt, probably something he should tell the others. He wasn’t having fun in his isolated office but the updates on their “Fuck up Peter Lukas’s Day” plan had made this isolation just a little more worth it. Either way, the sailor had slowly started to trust him, and that was what he was going for. Soon he would hear what the man wanted, and then he could report back to his friends. 

It was like being a spy, which he had found to be a little more bearable when he thought about it like that. Peter thought he was just some poor soul, so easily manipulated away from his friends, the ones he loved. Wrong. 

Though the paperwork was no joke, he picked it up fast, and he read through the pages twice as fast, just in case he signed anything that might cause a havoc, or wrench them deeper into their jobs than they already have. As he read through files and files- some that he stole from Elias’s office because Martin was done with being lied too- he found something that made him drop. The paper fluttered to the edge of the desk, and he looked at the clock.

He had to tell the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooOOOooh plot? Imagine that existing in my fanfic


	25. Enighten me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me whiplash, but ;) You're going to like it i promith

“What do you meant we can’t quit?” Tim yells, and Martin flinches before setting himself back to rights, holding their contracts in his hands. Jon leans in closer and Sasha is agape, the contracts say, in the finest print, that they cannot be fired- nor quit. It says it in long eloquent terms that make up the rest of the paper, meaning it has all the capitalist classist bullshit that Elias likes to use to bore them until they stop noticing the important things. 

  
  


Jon bristles, and Martin hands them all their contracts, nothing different- just that they didn’t read it the whole way full. Elias had them with a packet of twenty-seven pages with their stupid employment contracts. Not even the most dedicated researcher with actually care enough to read the little test at the bottom of the page, in the footnotes, on the final page. 

  
  


Sasha glares down at her paper, and goes to tear it, you can’t make anyone stay if you destroy the contract, but it won’t rip. Her arms are physically shaking as she tries to rip the page. Tim looks at it and grabs pens, and goes to write over the signatures, but the ink slides off as if the pages were laminated. Martin took scissors to it, but the scissors didn’t do a thing- they broke with the force. Jon tried to shred them with his nails, but no, none of them got anything but a papercut. 

  
  
  


“Hey wait, out contract looks different from Jon’s.” Martin says softly, he hadn’t noticed it before, but the terms on page fifteen looked different. “You are bound to the archives by the power of the Archivist, by signing this contract you accept the threats and dangers that come with being an Archival Assistant.”

  
  


Jon reads his, “You are bound to the Archives by the Eye. By signing this you acknowledge that you may experience change to yourself, and that you cannot leave through any means supernatural or natural, barring death.”

  
  
  


“Shit.” Tim says under his breath, and Jon looks at them all with a worried expression.

  
  


When they finally gave up with trying to rip the papers, they stare at the seemingly indestructible papers and Martin puts them back in his bag, but Sasha stops him, “Let’s keep these.”

  
  


“What if Elias finds out we went snooping?”

  
  


She glares at the bag, “Then he can shut up and suck it up. If we have them we can read through them better.”

  
  


Jon looks at them and Tim pipes in, “What if we made ourselves copies, then we could highlight things that seem important and compare notes- while also not tipping Bouchard off that we took them.”

  
  


“That's a good idea.” Jon says softly, but he was still holding his, “I’m sorry.”

  
  


“What for?” Martin asked incredulously, and Sasha takes all the papers to make copies, though doesn’t leave.

  
  


He shrugs, “It just seems, that you all wouldn’t be stuck in this if I hadn’t dragged you down to the archives with me.”

  
  


“Oh shut up with the self deprecating bullshit.” Tim says, putting an arm around Jon’s shoulders, “You didn’t know, in fact, I think the one we should all be very very angry at for trapping us is Elias. He’s the mastermind behind this spooky mess. You’re as much of a victim as us, chatty catty.”

  
  


Martin snorts at the nickname but came closer and put a hand on Jon’s arm, “Either way, you didn’t tell me to come down here, that was all Elias.”

  
  


Sasha puts the papers down and ruffled Jon’s hair, “Stop being a big hug pile when my hands are full. Still, we’re all trying hard to not get dragged down into this weird stuff. Well farther down than we are.”

  
  


Jon hums, looking a bit awed but not meeting anyone's eyes, “Yes I suppose you’re all right.”

  
  


“We always are.” Tim says, in the fake pompous voice of his, probably stolen off of his Elias impression. Martin faked a gag, and Sasha snorted. After the pile broke off they looked around their living room, “So. Roast?”

  
  


Martin thinks about it, “yeah lets start on that roast. It’s not like he’s going to fire us if we wake up late.”

  
  


“Martin you’re speaking my language.”

  
  


“Pissing off authority?”

  
  


“Exactly!” Tim triumphantly walks to the kitchen, Sasha looks at the two of them, and goes after Tim. He may seem like everything is ok, but he would bottle it up again, just like with his brother. If they let him go through that alone without intervention he might keep it all in until it exploded, and Sasha was the best at helping him through that. So they let her do her Sasha Magic.

  
  


Jon and Martin watched Sasha and Tim walk back to their room, whispering something, and Martin sighed, “Start on roast?”

  
  


“Huh? What?”

  
  


“I asked if you wanted to start dinner?” Martin said, and Jon flickered out of his dream world, before nodding. They go into the kitchen together, and Jon keeps stealing glances at Martin’s face.

  
  
  


Jon sits up on the counter, probably getting fur all over the workspace, but now one much cared, c’est la vie, as it were. He doesn’t help much but opening packages for Martin, and Martin does most of the heavy work, like chopping, handling things like a pro. Practical. He passed Jon a bowl to stir for him, the wooden spoon stuck in it, as he worked on seasoning the meat, dicing onions and potatoes. 

  
  


The way Martin looks so very concentrated on whatever he’s doing, stops Jon from being able to do any task; helplessly watching how pretty his friend is, Martin’s glasses fogged up every now and again and he can hear the annoyed little sighs when Martin has to lean back. Jon can’t help but be entrapped by the little things that endeared him to the other man.

  
  


How could he look away, when Martin was so breathtaking, in these soft moments. Even after everything heart-wrenching that has happened to them, he is sticking his tongue out in concentration, pairing well with the scrunch of his brows. Jon wishes he was an artist, or a writer, or anything other than a theater kid. Maybe he’d compare Martin to a summer’s day, but that wouldn’t capture how uniquely he had enraptured Jon.

  
  


When Martin looks over all he can see is Jon, hair fluffed up from being ruffled so many times earlier, leaning slightly forward on his palms, looking ensnared by the view. He realizes with a soft flustered feeling, that he is the view. Jon’s pupils are wide, face just a little red, and soft purring could be heard. Martin feels his heart beating heavily in his chest, he tries to pretend he hadn’t just had a moment. If he acted like he hadn’t seen maybe Jon will keep looking at him. 

  
  


It was nice, to feel adored. 

  
  


The sound of soft thumping of the knife hitting the cutting board kept the room alive like the beat of a heart, the beauty of a domestic moment. 

  
  


He stole glances of the man on the counter, the other not seeming to notice, or maybe he was just as adoring of the gaze as he was with staring. He looked beautiful, Martin thinks, alluring. Jon blinks slowly, the never-ending gaze interrupted by careful batting of eyelashes 

  
  


It’s like the world had shrunk to fit only them, only their kitchen, their shared air. 

  
  


“Jon?”

  
  
  


Jon seems to snap out of his stupor, as he looks at Martin now, with none of that mindless purring. Caught off-guard from his staring, “Yes, sorry I was-”

  
  


“N-no it’s ok I was-”

  
  


“-Really, probably dangerous to distract you from the food-”

  
  


Martin just smiles, and he can’t even stop himself, “The food can wait.”

  
  


Jon looks at him confused, not able to make words, before he blurts out, “I love you.”

  
  


It’s quite, and then Jon looks mortified, as if he had been caught snaking chocolate in the middle of the night, or found skivvying from work. Martin feels something akin to pure relief.

  
  


“I love you too.”

  
  


“I mean. Not as a friend, but I-”

  
  


“I know Jon.” Martin says softly, and he feels Jon’s skinny hand cupping his cheek, pawlike skin again his face. He melts into the touch, pulling his hand up to hover over Jon’s; Martin feels like the world had turned on it’s face, with the openly adoring face Jon had fixed upon his face. “Can I kiss you?”

  
  


Jon looks at him, and his hand comes up to his mouth and then looks down, “Uh, maybe not on the mouth? I don’t like. You know. It’s not you but-!”

  
  


Martin kisses Jon’s forehead, “That’s ok. I can love you without kissing you on the mouth.”

  
  


“Yes, yeah, yes right.” Jon stutters and then leans in, putting his forehead against Martin. Martin laughs a little, almost breathless. They stay there for a second and Jon is purring loud enough for Martin to both hear and feel it, and now it feels just as lovely as Martin thought it might. Carefully a hand comes up and rests of Jon’s chest. Then Jon leans and headbutts Martin. 

  
  


“Did you know that cats send air kisses by blinking slowly?” Jon says, and Martin smiles now, at how much of a nerd Jon was, then slowly blinks at Jon. This makes the other man red, and they start blinking at each other, which then dissolves into them both laughing. 

  
  


Then Sasha and Tim come out of their room, and come into the kitchen, ready to help with dinner. Jon stays, taking up his counter space, and Tim does little more than sit to the side and keep the moral. Martin and Sasha keep cooking, and they enjoy food hours later.

  
  


Laying in bed, Jon turns and takes Martin’s hand in his own- much safer now after they found claw-caps for him when he sleeps- and he sleepily mutters, “You’re my Person.”

  
  


Martin hums softly, other hand going to softly pet Jon’s hair, “I’m glad, wouldn’t have it any other way.” He falls asleep to the hand in his, and a purring man curled against his chest, holding onto his sweater.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	26. Betting on Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! TW
> 
> \- Dehumanization (Not terrible, but Elias is a bitch)  
> \- elias in general  
> \- Lonely Content  
> -Clowns

Martin had mastered the act of eavesdropping when he shouldn’t, like listening into conversations between nurses in the care home his mother went to, in between employers of his jobs before the institute, he listened in on so many conversations just because it was easy to go unnoticed even now. 

  
  


So it was very easy to listen in on a conversation between Elias and Peter, almost too easy if he was being honest. Though that might be because it had been a few weeks of he archives crew constantly making sure that Peter never had a peaceful moment in his extended stay as the head of institute, that frayed the man to the end of his rope. Not that Martin was complaining, he was just enjoying watching it happen from afar, and it helped when he needed to gather information.

  
  


“Peter, how is the institute going?”

  
  


He could hear the man’s audible smirk, “Elias, it’s going well. Why don’t you have your little prize on a leash? They seem very keen on ruining all your plans.”

  
  


“Yes yes, how is your end of the bargain Peter?”

  
  


Peter audibly puffs up with pride, “Lonely as ever Elias, it really is much too easy.”

  
  


“I’m sure it is.” Elias says, and Martin doesn’t know what's happening but he is sure that this is not ok. Something is wrong in the way they are speaking, and Martin would have to be stupid not to realize that the both of them were talking about the archives crew. Not just them, but him and Jon is particular. What the hell is going on there?

  
  


He grew angry that Elias and Peter thought they could talk about them like they were objects, like they weren’t people with will. His hands clench.

  
  


“Yes it is. You know, I thought you were going to send them to the Unknowing before pulling me into your little game of cat and mouse.” He laughs, and Martin bristles.

  
  


Elias laughs slightly, but Martin can tell that he’s rolling his eyes at Peter’s obvious joke. What is the Unknowing?

  
  


“The clowns and their motley little circus can wait. Don’t you want to see this bet until the end? They can manage a ritual without Martin.”

  
  


Peter laughs, “I suppose they’ll have to if things go the way they need to. You’re being very calm about this, I do so wonder what you think is more important than stopping the end of the world at the Strangers hands.”

  
  


The other man hums, “Oh trust me Peter. I have big plans for the mangy archivist and those silly assistants. All will work out.”

  
  


“Sounding suspiciously like a bond villain there Elias, are you menacingly petting a statement?” Peter jokes, he can tell the man’s eyebrow is raised. He sounds very proud of himself. 

  
  


There is a huff of annoyance, “You are so very funny Peter.”

  
  


“I know.” Peter says, “But that’s your thing isn’t it? Knowing. Either way, I’ll be off, taking what I win in this bet. I don’t know why you aren’t more worried to lose the institute.”

  
  


“Because I’ll obviously win. And we know what I get when I win.”

  
  


“Yes we do. Good luck on your ‘business trip’ or whatever you’re calling it lazing about at home.” Peter hangs up, and Martin leaves no trace that he had been near the office, like a wisp he was back in his seat as if nothing had happened. But something had happened. 

  
  


It sounded like an issue, and Martin should bring up the unknowing when they get home. He just wishes that he knew what the terms of that bet between the two were. There were some parts he could glean though, he was apart of one of the terms of the bet, winner gets the institute, gets something else. Still Martin stared at his email, and thought about how easy it was to trick people like those, who think he’s some stupid lonely man. 

  
  


He had friends who cooked with him and watched movies with him, a new tentative relationship with his longtime crush, a stable housing, a supernatural job security, and he was so very loved. 

  
  
  


\-------

  
  


Jon picked up his phone and read the text, once, twice, and a third time. He could hear Tim and Sasha getting out of their seats and moving towards his office. 

  
  


‘There's a ritual to end the world called the Unknowing, I heard Peter talk about it. It sounds important. And Tim… he said it was about a circus. I have more to tell you but we have to wait till we get home. I love you guys <3’

  
  


Jon look at the other two, both of their faces blanched, eyes wild, but for different reasons. Tim looked like there was a new fire lit in his heart, and Sasha looked like she needed to start researching immediately. They all looked at each other, an silently knew what they needed to do. Sasha was running to the stacks, starting research anew, Tim was going the opposite way, into Document Storage and snooping through all the files, and Jon?

  
  


Jon’s eyes lit up in a golden molten honey glow, and hunger reached his heart.

  
  


The Archives felt alive with the rampant searching of it assistants, and the prowling precision of the Archivist hunting down statements. The slowly reorganization of the stacks, made dusty even with the effort to keep it clean, was still leaving it a mess, and after what they just found out, it probably wouldn’t be organized again in a very long time. 

  
  


Tim cleared off his desk, putting all of his things on Sasha’s, she didn’t mind- as she was much more interested in finding out what was happening-, and moving the files in the desk drawers to Martin’s now empty desk. He would compile the knowledge of the stranger, just like a good assistant. He would get his revenge, and they would save the world.

  
  


More importantly… he could get closure without dying in the process, as he had been alright with doing years ago.

  
  


In his office Martin was still stacked with paperwork, and emails, and faceless calls to donors. It was tedious and unforgiving work, when he was alone, but he knew that at least they got something out of it. He stared at the papers, all again stolen from Bouchards office, blame the sticky fingers, and carefully put them in his bag for later. The feeling of being watched never came back, not after he took this job, instead replaced by the cold.

  
  


\----------

  
  
  


The day drags on farther than it should, with a deathly silence falling over the archives, and falling over the small isolated office like a blanket of snow. Cold and tense, something they weren’t prepared for. They all stay much too late that night, none of them realizing the time, not until Peter Lukas leaves, and the sudden chill leaves like a tendril attached to the man. The ugly steps to the archive’s echo with footsteps.

  
  


It’s Martin, his face is tired, and his eyes look dull. No one had even noticed the door opened, Sasha still in the stacks reading with her back pressed up to a shelf, tape recorder in hand. Tim listening to loud music in his earbuds as he furiously reads through things, taking notes in scratchy angry handwriting. And Jon’s office door was closed. 

  
  


Martin heads to the office. He doesn’t know what else to do, at this point. The day had drained him much more than usual. 

  
  


The lights were dim, and he could see Jon’s eyes glowing, but as soon as the door closes Jon looks up. Martin’s head is downturned, but when he looks up he sees Jon sitting on his desk and holding his arms out, Martin takes the hint and leans into the hug. It was a very long day, and the sun was already setting. Jon ruffles his hair and Martin sighs.

  
  


“This is hard.”

  
  


“I know Martin. I’m here.”


	27. Catnapping?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LOL i have no braincell
> 
> TW:  
> \- Mention of kidnapping.

Martin was good at his job, and he was a great liar, but not good enough to explain how the Archival crew already knew about the Unknowing. Peter had overheard them talking about the connections between statements and contrary to what everyone believed, he wasn’t that dense. He had put two and two together, confronting Martin in his office, his large frame blocking the door.

  
  


“You are quite the loudmouth there Martin. This leads me to wondering where the Archives learned about the Unknowing! Surely there is a better explanation than what I think it is.” Peter’s voice was still jovially cold, but Martin didn’t like the way the other was looking at him. 

  
  


Martin coughs, “Well next time I hear about another apocalypse I’ll keep my mouth shut and let everyone die blind.” He snipped back, and Peter raised a brow.

  
  


“I don’t remember talking- oh.” He stops and amusement lights in his voice, “You listened in on my conversation with Elias, didn’t you?”

  
  


He didn’t answer, but the truth was easily laid out. There was still a moment where Martin thought this was it, to the depression domain for him.

  
  


“What will we do with you…”

  
  


Martin stood up from his desk, slamming his laptop shut to cut Peter off, “I am going back to the Archives, unless you can give me more information about the Unknowing. And whatever bonkers plan that any other spooky- spooky jerk has planned!”

  
  


Peter stared, and then laughed, watching Martin as if he was a particularly interesting subject in a test tube, “You are certainly not what I expected. Are you?”

  
  


“No. I never am. I’m not as stupid as you think.” Martin says, his eyes full of fire while his face still looked cold and tired, he puts his things in his bag, and waves as he leaves, bumping into Peter’s arm, “It sucked to work for you. I quit.”

  
  


As he walks he can feel the chill of Peters glare on his back, he feels immensely lucky as he walks quickly through he empty halls back down to the archives. (Back to those like him. His people?) He was lucky to not get sent to that foggy hell that the statement’s talked about, and hopefully they could avoid that later as well.

  
  
  


\-----------------

  
  


When the door opens, Martin sees Sasha, Tim, and Jon sitting at Tim’s desk talking in hushed tones. He clears his throat, the three of them looking at him now. The room’s atmosphere changed rapidly, going from solemn to confused to elated.

  
  


“Did you ditch that office upstairs?” Sasha asked, her smile growing.

  
  


Martin takes a breath and hangs up his coat, “Yeah. I did. Need any help?”

  
  


“Get over here you big lug!” Tim says, getting up and throwing an arm around his shoulder, shaking him a little bit, “We’re in the middle of planning some murder!”

  
  


Jon snorted, rolling his eyes, “It’s not quite like that!”

  
  


“It’s exactly like that!” Tim shoots back, his face sly, “Come on lets explain it to Martin. We need our mastermind here to start the plan!”

  
  


That is when Martin sees the files upon files stacked on Tim’s desk, and more than that, a map unfolded out with black sharpie circling a few streets, red outlining certain roads, and the highlighter on other parts. Form what he can see on Tim’s laptop, he sees Tim ordering an axe, and on Sasha’s open phone he can see that she’s ordering bow and arrows. 

  
  


“Lord of the ring style clown murder?” He asks, making the others laugh, “Order some matches.”

  
  


“Wooo!! Arson in the archives.” Tim pumps his fist in the air. 

  
  


“Martin don’t bring fire into my Archives, please.”

  
  


“I wont I wont!” Martin laughs and then sits down, pulling a chair from his desk, the pulling up a few websites and handing his phone to Tim. 

  
  


“What is this- Fireworks! You’re speaking my language. Man I love this side of you.”

  
  


Jon hums, looking over by leaning on Martin’s shoulder like a Nosy Nancy, Martin didn’t mnd though a little used to being crawled over by the other, “Use the company card.”

  
  


“Wow Jon really choosing to say fuck you aren’t you?” Sasha asks, “I’m using the company card for the arrows too.”

  
  


“He’s got us trapped here, unable to leave, with not enough pay for dealing with the supernatural and the end of the world, I think using the company card is a nice touch to say that we hate him. It’s only fair.” Jon says bluntly, getting his paws off of where he was using Martin’s thigh as help to see what Tim was doing.

  
  


“Gimme the card Jonathan or I will kick your arse.” Tim says playfully, holding his hand out, and Jon rolls his eyes.

  
  


“I don’t have it on me but I have the information memorized, give me the phone Timothy.” Jon says, mirroring Tim’s tone, holding his hand out as well. His claws click against the screen as he types in the information, with his haughty attitude making the situation a bit harder to not laugh at. Sasha grinned, before they all remembered why this was happening. 

  
  


Oh god why were they trying to stop the end of the world, they were not equipped for this.

  
  


It’s not like anyone else was eligible and taking the job. So there they were. None of them were even equipped to

  
  


“Whats the plan, I want to proofread whatever dumb things you guys are doing.” Martin said jokingly.

  
  


Sasha stuck her tongue out, “I won’t let them be stupid you know this. So we found out about the Circus, and we have a few definite ideas on what fear the clowns serve, also we know who the ‘ringleader’ seems to be. A one Nikola Orsinov.”

  
  


“And how do we plan to deal with them?”

  
  


The mood goes back to serious, the other three looked somber; Sasha has a pointer, and Jon begins the lecture. 

  
  


\---------

  
  


So the start of the preparations have gone through that day, and the Unknowing is months away, they think they should be fine. It should all be fine, and if things go according to plan, Tim gets his revenge, they stop the end of the world, then boom happy ending. It could work out, Sasha thinks. It really could. They could be safe!

  
  


Sasha’s car had been in the dumps that day, so they had forgone it so that later that week Martin and Sasha could take a look at what was up, maybe they’d let Tim help a little, but he was good with boats not cars. 

  
  


“Christ!” Jon’s voice cuts throught their walk, only a block or so away from the house, but now they see that Jon is snatching his hand away from a man, glaring angrily, “What the hell?”

  
  


“We’re Breekon and Hope. And you’re the Archivist?” They say, taking turns after the other to speak, it hurts their heads a little. Jon’s hackles are raised and he pulls his hat down further onto his head. The two men where a bit stout and broad

  
  


“I am. Why are you just- hey!” Jon yelps, as he is picked up. The other three spring into action now, Tim throws a punch, connecting with one of the delivery men’s cheek. Sasha uses her work bag as a weapon, swinging and only barely missing the man holding Jon. His hat flies off. Martin and Tim go for the second guy.

  
  


“Oh? Seems you’re a kitty cat then?” One of them says, laughing slightly. 

  
  


Jon hisses angrily, and claws down the delivery man’s face harshly, kicking harshly into the man’s gut, “Catnapping is a serious offense. Get off of me!”

  
  


Martin kicks the man from behind, and the men with false Cockney accents groan in annoyance, “Can never get that one alone can ya?”

  
  


“No I don’t think he’s ever alone.”

  
  


“That makes our job a bit harder.”

  
  


“Sure does ‘Ope.”

  
  


Jon finally scrambles free, landing on his rear, and the two men with no bruises far as the eye can see, get away, back to their van and speed off. 

  
  


“So we’re fixing the car tonight.” Sasha says, and Jon agrees, putting himself to rights and dusting himself off. Martin starts looking over the other three, finding only little bruises and the occasional scratch. 

  
  


Tim looks right ruffled, face red with anger, but then he laughs, “Catnapping boss?”

  
  


He went red, “Oh shut up!”


	28. they want what?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyoooooo heres more of that great plot :p
> 
> TW:
> 
> \- Fight scene after the ----  
> \- Skinning mentions, but ya know. Nikola.

Sasha takes the cameras from their box, putting them carefully on her desk. They wanted to set up security cameras in the house after that ‘catnapping’ scare with the cockney accent delivery men; who thy had clocked as Breekon and Hope from a few statements. The Coffin they seemed to carry around with them was probably in that van they had driven, so she went to set up the cameras, her tech savvy was useful these days she thinks. Even if the institute seemed to be allergic to changing from the clunky desktops. 

  
  


Jon leaned over, staring at the little cameras and the app on her phone, she found it sweet to have someone appreciate her work, even if the job she had was much less than she deserved. 

  
  


“This one will go looking out to the driveway, so that we can make sure no ones used the front door or has gotten their mits on a few windows.” She says, pointing nonchalantly to the door, and gestures to the window that was open at the moment. Jon nods, leaning on her and listening intently. “This one is going to be looking out through the back windows, to the yard. Great for spooky intruders or that racoon that keeps knocking down the chairs.”

  
  


“I find it highly ironic that we work for the vouyer demon and now we’re watching things.” Tim’s voice out of nowhere had startled the two on the couch. He sits down next to Jon, as Sasha had taken the end of the couch to use the armrest as a makeshift table, “You missed your calling as a government agent Miss James!”

  
  


Sasha leans over Jon to smack Tim’s leg, “Shut your mouth. Mr. Spy.”

  
  


“Here I thought that I would get that title.” Martin snarks from the kitchen, and Sasha laughs. 

  
  


“You’re our favorite spy, head spy!”

  
  


Tim gasps, “I’m actually the Fem Fatale! You could have been it Sasha, my James Bond, but you’d rather murder me.”

  
  


Sasha huffs, “You’re annoying. Go away.” She smiles softly though even as she waves her had dismissively at him. He cries out in false offense, but couldn't move with a lapful of cat-man.

  
  


“Jon can stay but I can’t? Favoritism!” Tim dramatically says, before quieting down to watch her work as well. Jon wriggles until he’s sat in Tim’s lap, and Tim uses’s Jon’s head as a chin rest, wrapping his arms around Jon like he was a teddy bear. Jon didn’t mind though, and this let Tim scooch closer to sit next to Sasha. 

  
  


Martin comes in with tea for each person, chai for Sasha, honey ginger for Tim, and earl grey for Jon. For himself he made catnip tea, simply to laugh whenever Jon grimace at the cup. 

  
  


“Thanks Martin. God we missed you! I am so glad you’re not assistant to the old salt.” Tim says, taking his cup with a grateful sigh. 

  
  


Jon grumbles, holding his tea very carefully, “If you spill on my head I will bite you.”

  
  


“I won’t spill, you grump.” Tim says, making a gesture as if he was going to pour the cup on Jon’s head. Jon wriggled out of his grip, almost spilling Tim’s drink all over himself.

  
  


He huffed, “Cat privilege revoked.” Jon said haughtily, taking his mug and setting it on the cat tower, before leaping up there himself and situating himself as if he was in an office meeting.

  
  


“How terrible!” Martin laughs, taking a seat on a chair, not wanting to be squished by people while drinking his tea.

  
  


“So my little helpers, we will be putting these up, and give me your phone’s, I’m downloading the app on them.” Sasha says, holding out her hands for the phones. Martin hands his over, and takes Jons and hands it to Sasha as well. Tim bows and hands her his phone as if offering her a rose.

  
  


“Tim since you want to be cute, you will be the one helping me put these up.” Sasha teased, pulling the man off the couch and handing him camera's, “Up we go.”

  
  


\-------

  
  


Jon blinks awake to see Martin tapping his shoulder, “Jon. Jon!” 

  
  


He grumbles, almost turning to go back to sleep, since he’d actually looked lke he could sleep through the night tonight, but the insistent noise made him blink. Finally he sat up, “What?”

  
  


“Sasha and Tim saw someone over the cameras, having a bit of a family meeting.” Martin says, and Jon is immediately awake now, getting out of bed and the both of them make their way to the living room. Tim is holding his axe, staring at the door, while Sasha was looking through the cameras still. Martin looked around still feeling anxious, and Jon shared the sentiment.

  
  


Tim looks back at them from his guard spot at the door, and Jon feels on edge, the energy like a vibration in his teeth, as he stared as well. 

  
  


Movement in the window.

  
  


Jon’s head snaps to face the movement, his eyes focusing on the panes, before he stands next to Tim in his centennial, Martin held his breath. Sasha gasped, seeing something on the cameras, “By the door-”

  
  


Tim hefts the axe, holding it in a ready strike, and Jon was next to the door until Sasha said, “Clown at the door!"

  
  


The door opens, and Tim swings down, the axe just barely missing a plastic figure. The clown laughs, and Tim swings again, missing again. Jon times the movement between swings, as Tim gets closer outside the door, before running through the door. The clown laughed again, and Jon gave chase as she ran. The voices of the others flew off his back like water, as the thrill of running blew through him like blood. He was still barefoot, and he didn’t care, nor did he care that the path was getting darker. ( _Attack the Stranger for daring to set foot in his territory, for trying to take him from his people._ )

  
  


She was luring him, but she didn’t know what he could do. Neither did he know what kind of mistake he was making. 

  
  


Her laugh echoed now, and Jon finally caught her, toppling them both down into the mud, the dirt and grime hitting them like rain. The plastic molded under his nail, but Jon cared little. A breathless growl emitted from the tiny hunter and he finally asked, “What do you want?”

  
  


“Silly Archivist! We need your skin, but it’s in a right state, and you have some extras!” She was talking about the tail and ears, but Jon just clawed deeper, as did her frown, “That was very rude!”

  
  


“What is your name?” He asked again, not caring about her comments, “Why do you need me? What are you?”

  
  


The clown struggled against the compulsion, “I am Nikola Orsinov, I'm plastic silly, and we need your skin for a ritual! We were going to go for an old taxidermy, but we found out that Gertrude Robinson burned it before she kicked the bucket! Next best option is something else almost as powerful! You, I mean since you are the Archivist! Lot's of fear, very powerful, with more than one fear vying for your little head! You'd make a lovely coat, the fur's a nice touch!”

  
  


“Wait what are you talking about! What the hell am-” A hand on his throat.

  
  


“Ah ah ah! Question time is over now Archivist.” She said and Jon struggled in her grip. He couldn’t breath, a steel hold on his throat like a collar, but he still fought, biting her arm and pulling with his whole body. Nikola tutted as her arm pulled off, and Jon spat it out and started running back home. The mannequin tutted again, reattaching the arm to it's socket, an he could hear her following him as he darts through trees. He's so tired.

  
  


He could see the house, and saw that Tim, Sasha, and Martin had taken down a few other mannequins that had joined the ranks, this was not a one person capture mission it seems, “Martin! Sasha! Tim!”

  
  


They turned their heads to see him, and Martin ran over, but Jon felt a tug at his hair, and then a yank. He went down hard, being dragged by the hair was not on his bucket list though, and he crunched up kicked the mannequin in the face. “Let me go!”

  
  


She cackled, pulling him through the muck with ease, dragging him back the path they had come down earlier, “Come on little Archivist! Play time’s over for you kitty.”

  
  


The other three were following this time, and her voice became more vitriolic, her hand was an iron grip on one of his ears, and the more he struggled the more it got uncomfortable. Nikola pulls hard, this time because she was angry, “I am losing my patience with this game!” 

  
  


His feet couldn't find purchase on the ground, slipping more often than not, he sees Tim and Martin and Sasha coming close and he finally decided to play dead. He goes limp, making it easier on Tim to-

  
  


**_Chop._ **

  
  


The grip on his head went slack and he saw that Tim had driven the axe down, cutting the plastic arm off. Jon scrambled away but the hand was still in his hair, fingers twisting to keep a grip, and he pried the hand away from his scalp, the plastic limbs taking strands with it. He threw the thing down and shoved it into the mud with his foot. It still moved like an unhinged spider, or that hand from the movie Martin liked, twisting in it’s gross puddle, scuttling back to it’s owner. He could almost still feel it grabbing ahold of his ear, and with that thought he scrambled to his friends.

  
  


Tim was stil trying to hack through Nikola’s plastic body, but she dodged well enough to frustrate the man, laughing at his failures to chop her head off. 

  
  


Sasha was the one to grab Tim’s shoulder and puls him back, no matter how dangerous. They can’t let the others go off alone with the thing. Jon realizes how stupid it was to run off like that, but when the four of them are huddled together, he watches the clown look at her fallen cohorts and scoff, then she left.

  
  


They get inside, and lock the doors. Martin gets the first aid kit, and looks them over. Jon needed a shower and new clothes before they could look over him. He leaves the door cracked just in case, and when he gets out wearing new clothes, he could see the other three sitting in the hallway. After everyone gets a shower, and their small lacerations are looked over, they sit on the couch, hair damp and arms a bit shaky.

  
  


Sasha shivers with cold, and none of them want to leave the living room, not for anything. So it’s agreed that they’ll have a little sleepover, huddled together on the couch, all paranoid.

  
  


“What was that?” Sasha asks, breaking the sleepless silence. Jon remembers his conversation with Nikola, and realizes with horror that this was his fault. He was the reason these creatures were coming after them. He feels sick.

  
  


“She wants my skin for the end off the world.” Jon says, his voice almost lost to the shuffling of blankets, but Tim goes stiff, eyes wide. 

  
  


Martin sits up more, “She _what?”_

  
  


Tim looks distressed, and they remember his brother. He hugs Martin, and then Sasha, and then Jon. It’s a tight hug, but Jon can’t say it bothers him after that fiasco outside, looking at the chair under the doorknob. 

  
  


None of them get sleep that night.


	29. Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh here comes some fun things for you to ponder :3
> 
> TW:
> 
> -Stranger shit  
> \- Elias  
> \- Paranoia

Sasha ran a finger over the bow, her package had come in a little later than Tim’s axe had, but she was rather excited to get to use these things during the Unknowing, well, hopefully before that, since they wanted to eliminate Nikola Orisinov before the threat of skinning their friend came true. Cruella D’ville had nothing on how creepy the clown ringmaster of the spooky circus was. They probably looked a right bunch, their work bags accompanied by a bow and arrow case, an axe -- with the safety plastic ends on while in the building they weren’t animals -- and a full blown box of fireworks, just in case they needed to distract, just in case they didn’t get rid of the enemy before their little ritual to end the world. 

They all looked tired, from lack of sleep, and that made everyone in the lobby try not to look their way. You don't mess with Archives business, employees always said, you leave them alone and hopefully they do the same. Older workers wondered why everyone who worked in the archives turned out to be a nutjob or dop off the face of the earth. But they wouldn't pry, they didn't want to be dragged into that mess.

  
  


Jon flexes his claws, after the week befores fiasco, with the whole learning that he was being stalked because they wanted to make him into a taxidermists favorite frock and scarf to match. That was not a nice thought to have, he worriedly rubbed his hands together.

  
  


He still hadn’t come up with the courage to tell them about the tearing secrets out of Nikola, not quite sure how to word it. He didn’t want them to think he was even more of a monster, a burden, at least he was being useful while they were hunting. And all of them had been traumatized by monster ( _himself included)_ , and here they were- living with one. ( _He wasn't a monster. If he was, so was his pack_ -)

  
  


He had told Daisy about it though, knowing that she Knew what he was going through. She had looked worried, holding his chin in her hands and looking at his eyes, and checking him over. Daisy had said, “Sims. As long as you aren’t killing innocent people… I can’t judge you. I trust you guys to save the world. If you need my help, I’ll be here.”

  
  
  


“I don’t want to drag you back into this though, this clusterfuck of monsters and weird things and- and me. I’m not even a person anymore Daisy! I feel like a never was...”

  
  
  


She had hugged him, holding him tightly, “You aren’t dragging me into anything S- Jon. I promise, and they won't think less of you if you tell them whats happening, they’ll be happy you told them. You are a person, but your also a little bit of a cat, catting around is what you do.”

  
  


Jon thought about that talk he had with Daisy, in her flat, dropped off by Sasha and Martin before they went to run errands. Then he’s pulled back to the present as he walks into the doorway, rubbing his finger over his nose, “Ow.”

  
  


Tim covers his mouth, “You good?”

  
  


“Ugh. Yes, I was just lost in thought.” Jon says, before rolling his eyes, “You can laugh.”

  
  


He does laugh a little, before settling down. They had all struggled to keep lighthearted and happy, but with Tim’s past resurfacing and Jon now not wanting to endanger them by being selfish, it had grown a bit hard. Even Sasha was struggling, only because she knew that somehow, someone had broken the Not-Them’s table and set it free, and was on edge… She remembered the way she felt that day, like if she were alone that she would have been replaced. Martin was anxious and twitchy, as around every corner they could see fog, he could smell Peter Lukas in the halls. 

  
  


Sasha stretched, “Ok so. Game plan?”

  
  


Jon looked down, and the back at them, now or never, “I have something to tell you first.”

  
  


Martin nodded, and Tim watched wearily, he seemed worried now. Jon hated to put them on edge, they were all already stressed out enough ( _ maybe they wouldn’t be if he left _ \- _if he went off on his own_ ) ( _ no. they love him. Where did that thought come from? _ ), and here he was, giving them something else to fuss over. Well. he couldn’t back out now.

  
  


“I found out about Nikola’s plans.” He started, and stopped, “But I think… I think i made her tell me? The way that Elias Knows things I think, I think I can sort of- pry out secrets? I don’t know. I asked her questions and she told the truth and got mad, so I don’t think she told me just because-”

  
  


“Jon. Jon!” Martin snapped his fingers in front of Jon’s face and wow was he feeling lightheaded, “Calm. Down. Take a deep breath and finish your thought.”

  
  


He takes a breath, shaking a little, “I think I’m a… I think the thing that Elias serves had latched onto me.”

  
  


Tim gets up and moves Jon manually to sit down, Sasha stares as they wait, “Jon…. we know.”

  
  


“What?” He looks up shocked and confused. How could they know? Was he that obvious?

  
  


“Jon the same things happening to you… We think they’re happening to us too.”

  
  
  


\---------

  
  


Nikola was… Irritated, angry, really really displeased. Lots of synonyms to find for over the top, pop her plastic lid like a jack-in-the-box pissed. She smiles through her anger though, staring at the delivery men, “It’s not going right! None of it is! If you two don’t get that Archivist then I will lose my- cool.”

  
  


Breekon and Hope glare, “S’not like we can get him alone.”

  
  


“Yeah, they’re tighter than super glued wood.” Hope finishes. 

"Like us wit' tha coffin 'ere."

  
  


Nikola screams now, her irritated voice cracks, with the stolen voice box doing weird things to the way she speaks, fluctuating in volume before she just tears the cords out with her fingers, throwing them to the ground in anger, before going to find a different set. It’s not like she had a limited supply.

  
  


Still, she could do nothing but go and get more annoyed. The Archivist was getting much to cocky, thinking he could evade the Stranger, with his little pack of personified tape recorders. It was just making her wish he was easier to get alone, and Nikola was still offended that he had the audacity to compel her! She thought he was a baby avatar, but no he was already close to the point where the only way to be more powerful is to die. 

  
  


Well. He wouldn’t Become if she skinned him. Couldn't Become if they ended the world and brought forth the unknable thing that was the stranger first.

  
  


No matter, Nikola could play the waiting game.

  
  
  


\---------

  
  
  


Elias laugh as he watched Peter fail the bet, but he was still troubled by the fact that the archivist wasn’t marked by the Lonely. Martin had evaded willingly going into the lonely, and he had been so close too. Elias smirked, he had known that the little group had plans, staring through the portrait of Jonah Magnus in the Archives. Jon was slowly getting more scared of the stranger, so maybe he just had to catch them off guard. 

  
  


Yes. That was a good idea, catch them off-guard. Can’t hunt if you aren’t prepared. Jumpscares always seem so tacky, but he supposes it will have to do.

He can work with a scared stray.

  
  
  


-


	30. A bell collar!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit heavy. We thought Jon wasn't getting catnapped? Incorrect he is 
> 
> TW:
> 
> \- Catnapping   
> \- Stranger typical shit  
> \- Dehumanization  
> \- Singular joke about self strangulation

The wax museum was quiet, the retired and slightly melted figures in their places, mannequins around the halls, scattered like confetti, wearing gaudy and garish clothes; bright enough sequins and buttons to blind someone. Flashing in the dusty, old, worn and yet still florescent spotlights. It was silent, in that eerie way that invites anything, just anything, to dare disturb the unmistakably uneasy stillness. 

  
  


And someone dared. Nikola Orsinov grinned, as she walked through the halls of the old abandoned place, but she was not the one making the noises. 

  
  


No, that was the struggling Archivist gagged and bound, slung over her shoulder like a bag of rocks. He squirmed and kicked and clawed, but he couldn’t get away, not when Nikola had gotten him where she had. The rag in his mouth kept him from compelling the giddy clown that easily carted him away.

  
  


She had disabled the cameras at the house, only one, before slipping in through a window. Said window had been locked, but she didn’t get where she was by being a mediocre criminal! It had been hard to get the little cat-man pried out of the big one’s arms, she had torn the man’s --whose name she thinks is Martin’s but he’s not as relevant to Nikola as Tim Stoker was, nor the Archivist --, sweater, from accidentally being a little too excited and ripping the Archivists hands out of it. 

  
  


By the time the man had woken up, she had already gagged him and thrown ihm out the window, before knocking him back out. Then he had awoken halfway across town an she had knocked him out again until they got there! Very easy, she wondered why she didn’t just do this in the first place, instead of leaving those pesky delivery men to do her business. 

  
  


Nikola sits the struggling man down on the chair, and then hums, examining him. She noticed quickly that he took good are of his hair, but not his skin, with a sigh she realizing she would have to send the delivery men out again! This time though it will be a much easier job, since it’s just shopping and not kidnapping a newly formed avatar. Still there was so much to find out!

  
  


The Archivist glared at her, but she payed no mind, and pulled at one of the peculiar little cat ears on his head. Muffled anger was the response, but she kept on as she pleased. His skin had little circular holes up his legs, and a few on his face, then there were tiny white scars that looked like he got into a fight with a dog. They were large cat ears for such a small man, maybe they could make mittens out of them, she laughed to herself. 

  
  


After her chuckle, the man getting his ears poked at leaned back, and then slammed his forehead against hers. Nikola pretended like it hurt, before laughing again, “Remember, I’m plastic silly! Your little attempts will do not good!”

  
  


Jon didn’t want to be there, not bound to a chair, and certainly not without his people.

  
  


Nikola did wonder why Elias had given her the Archivists Address, but she didn’t care to think about the man any longer than he deserved.

  
  
  


\--------------

  
  
  


The archival assistants had woken up only two hours after Nikola Orsinov broke it, and once they realized Jon was no where to be found, they had begun to freak out. Martin had already felt weary, from the rips in his sweater, but when they patrolled the parameter of the house they found little shreds of plastic. 

  
  


“Fuck.” Tim said, staring at the house with horror. Panic had finally set in for all of them, they don’t know if Jon is alive or dead with the clowns. Not again.

  
  


“How did they even get in!” Sasha said, logical brain kicking in, “We locked everything, we always do.”

  
  


Martin looked pale, “You think they can pick locks?”

  
  


“Shit.” 

  
  


“Round up, we’re going clown hunting.” Tim says, already making his way to the house, he was grabbing his axe. Sasha perked up, her nose going up into the air. Martin blinked, and Tim turned around confused. 

  
  


Sasha looks confused, “I think I can smell them. Can smell traces of Jon.” She starts walking through trees, following it at a fever pace, as if in a trance, before Martin grabs her shoulder. 

  
  


“We have to get the weapons before going haywire searching, the car will be faster.” Martin says carefully, and Sasha shakes her head as if to get rid a fog in her mind, she nods. 

  
  


The three are grabbing their things, the map of haunted places and weapons ready. Going into the car, Sasha rolls the window down so that she could catch the scent again, and barked orders to Martin who was driving. Tim sat in the back, taking stock of their things, something angry and full of grief filled his chest. They couldn’t lose him, Tim couldn’t lose him. If anythng happen to (his people) his friends he thinks he might snap. His head smacks into the seat when Martin breaked hard. 

  
  


Sasha looked frustrated, “I lost the scent.”

  
  


Tim put his head into his hands, before putting his hand on Sasha’s shoulder, “It’s ok.”

  
  


“He’ll be ok.” Martin says, but they can all tell that they’re all clinging onto hope that was slipping away, the only reason Jon might be alive was that the Circus wanted to torture him, and that another possibility none of them want to think about. They were all quiet for a second, feeling a mix of emotions, and all of them unpleasant. 

  
  


Martin parks the car, thinking about something before he took charge, “get the map, we’ll start searching that way.”

  
  


Sasha unfolds the map and points to one of the places, “This ones closest, Taxidermists shop. Martin?”

  
  


“Yes?” He said, putting his seatbelt back on and the car coming to life.

  
  


“Step on it.” Tim called from the back seat, and Martin didn’t have to think twice, before they were racing down streets, breaking so many street laws. They were going to find their Archivist, and they were going to find him before something terrible happened, they all swore on it. 

  
  


\--------

  
  
  


Jon struggled still, he had hope though. His people would come for him, they had to. Nikola had clipped his nails, leaving him feeling painfully helpless; even if he could manage to get ungagged he wouldn’t far if he couldn’t get out of the damn restraints. Even more embarassing: they had put a bell collar on him! A bell! That was the cherry on top!

  
  


He hissed, wriggling again. He just hoped that help would get here soon, because if he had to hear the bell around his neck again he things he’s going to strangle himself with it.

  
  


Nikola popped her head in, “Alright little Archivist, the Unknowing is only a month away- we just have to prepare your skin.”

  
  


Jon didn’t like the sound of that.


	31. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Sorry if this seemed too fast paced, but i didn't want to dwell on the stuff the circus did because torture scenes are the literal worst! Again, sorry!!  
> Also to everyone who theorizes in the comments I adore you very dearly!!!
> 
> TW:  
> \- Circus Things  
> \- Elias  
> \- Tim planning murder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does my writing style change drastically every chapter? Yes sir it does! Am I going to fix that? No Sir I wont! XD

It had been a whole day since Jon had gotten taken from them, Sasha knew the exact numbers, able to keep up with it with ease. Martin was skimming through different places now, muttering softly, and angrily as he highlighted more places to search for their (Their Archivist. He was their Archivist and they were his People) friend, for their friend. Tim was sharpening his axe, and he smelled like struck matches and something vaguely fox like. 

  
  


They had noticed that, that they were getting closer to what Jon was, Tim’s footsteps were light and he was sly, easily bendable. Sasha had the nose of a bloodhound, and she was starting to be able to smell things from rooms away. It was helpful when they wanted to avoid someone. Martin had way to trap people with words, like a hunting spider. It had worried them, but they didn't want to dwell on it, not when they needed to put their thinking to something else.

  
  


Sasha’s head snapped to the side, as did the other two’s, as the Archive door opened. Footsteps on the tasteless green stairs, clicking with fancy shoes that cost more than someone’s car. 

  
  


Elias stood there at the bottom smiling at them, grey eyes moving over them, skimming and yet still feeling like he was looking into their souls, “Hello, do you know where Jonathan is?”

  
  


Martin stared at Elias, his mouth twisted into a sickeningly angry smile, “You know what happened to him, don’t act like you don’t! Really, you should take acting classes if you want to continue with your little ‘evil-boss-I-know-everything-and-I-am-a-mastermind schtick.”

  
  


Tim looked over at the older man, after Martin’s spiel, his eyes narrowing, “Oh your business trip finally over? Or were you ever on a business trip, you lying-”

  
  


“That's enough you two.” Elias says, cutting off Tim’s words, and whatever else Martin wanted to say; he didn't have time for their little breakdown, “I suppose the Circus got him then? How do you three plan to stop the Unknowing alone?”

  
  


Sasha grit her teeth, “We aren’t doing shit until we get Jon out of there. Thought you would know, since you know everything, you creep.”

  
  


“Putting him before the world then?” Elias said, a curious note in his voice, leaning in slightly, his eyes sparkling with mirth. Below that mirth was an idea.

  
  


Martin clears his throat, slamming a useless file down just a little too hard, “No we’re quite at multitasking. We can do both. Why do you want to know- it’s not like you’re helping stop it, hell you weren’t even going to tell us about it! Hm? Try an d a little harder at acting like you care.”

  
  


Elias rolled his eyes, hands clasped, “You are all being so dramatic, I’m sure he’s fine, they won’t kill him not yet.”

  
  


There was a crack, and imbedded in the floor next to Elias’s feet was an axe, Tim clicked his tongue. He missed on purpose, breathing a tad bit hard though his gritted teeth. That bastard had no right to talk that way about any of them, and he was lucky Tim didn’t want to go to jail, though he was sure Martin and Sasha would help him hide the body. 

  
  


“Suppose this is a good time to say that if you kill me, you die as well. I’m the beating heart of the Institute, should I get fatally harmed, well… you all go too. Just thought that maybe you should know the… consequences of your actions. Might want to keep a more careful on that axe, Tim.” He said, and with every word, the archival assistants grew more despairing, “Well I’ll leave you to your quest to save the Archivist.”

  
  


Elias wishes he didn’t have to tell them these things, not this early, that silly Leitner had caused so many issues, but no matter. Peter had been useless, which didn’t surprise him, he would have to save the lonely for last and hope the assistants dropped like flies. Maybe they would, or maybe Elias would have to set something up, either way, he will wither away whatever camaraderie these archives have. At this point he’s given up attempts at subtlety, Nikola had just thought he was annoyed at his Archivist, and didn’t want to get his hands dirty. Peter knew he was trying to hurt the Archivist but didn’t know why, and didn’t seem to care. 

  
  


Martin glared as Elias left the Archives, his hands clenching under the desk, “He had to be lying! He’s just trying to get us scared, because he knows that we know what he’s doing.”

  
  


“Why would he lie though?” Sasha says, “Because if he was all knowing we wouldn’t be able to get him either way.”

  
  


Tim took his axe from the ground, and Sasha carefully pulled it out of his hands, laying it on the desk, he let her, “Because he want’s us to feel helpless. It worked.”

  
  


“Lets worry about how to kill him without dying later, we have something to get back to.” Martin says, looking down at the thing, and suddenly, he knew where a file was. He got up, and snagged it from Jon’s empty office, on the top shelf. He opened it, confused about how he just Knew it was what they needed. Sasha snatched one of the papers, as did Tim. There was a few minutes where everyone was silent. 

  
  


She made an ahah noise, “Look at this! A wax Museum!”

  
  
  


\--------

  
  


Jon felt beaten down, it had been what? Two, three days since he was strapped down to a chair. He tried kicking his feet, before the pins and needles ran through him and he winced. His tail flicked, somehow left free, but he thinks that only because Nikola knew that the tail wasn’t strong enough to break rope.

  
  


It was terrible here, he thinks, feeling weak. Jon had refused to eat anything Nikola gave him, because none of it was particularly inviting, and it wasn't anything his stomach could digest, so he was weak and hungry. His nails grew much faster than they should, and Nikola would cut them shorter every time, his nailbeds ached. All around a terrible stay at a wax museum, other than being humiliated with a collar and tied to a chair, he thinks if his people were here he'd call the stay a 2/10 if he was being nice. 

What if he didn't get out of here? Jon hated to think about that. But he couldn't help but spiral, not when he was struggling to deal with all the discomforts of his situation. Jon wandered vaguely about what was going to happen, should he be kept here, he'd probably die of malnutrition before he got skinned so that was a plus.

  
  


The ringing of the bell around his neck made him irrationally angry, just as the sound of a door made him irrationally scared. He turned his head as much as he could to look behind him, he heard a commotion, and then heard a familiar voice.

  
  


“Run run run run, get in here! There's no one- Jon?” Martin’s voice called through, and then the door slammed, out of his periphery he saw Sasha and Tim barricading the door, and then Martin was in front of him, using a pocket knife to start cutting the ropes off of him, then taking off the gag. “Oh my god Jon you’re alive.”

  
  


Jon coughed, and then rubbed feeling back into his hands, “Take-take the damned thing off. Take it off my neck.” 

  
  


Martin looked, and then cringed at the sound of a bell. He could hear Tim and Sasha muttering something, and he looks for a clasp, before giving up- and just carefully cutting that off as well, it falls to the floor with a pathetic ring, "I got it, it’s off.”

  
  


He took a deep breath, as if he was starved of air, and then leaned his head on Martin’s shoulder. He doesn’t think he’d slept a wink during his capture, maybe for a few minutes when he hyperventilated too much and fainted, but really not enough sleep. 

  
  


Sasha was there, and Jon had given her silent permission to hug him, then Tim, who practically picked him up and held him like a baby. Tim was having the hardest time dealing with Jon getting snatched, and Jon felt a bit better, with his people there, with the fact that he wasn't going to die. 

  
  


After even a second of comfort, there was banging on the barricaded door, “So we have two options, try and fight the monster at the door, or hack through a wall.”

  
  


“I choose the wall.” Jon said deadpan, flexing his hands again. The feeling had returned to his feet, that was always nice. Still he felt a bit defenseless without his (claws. he got declawed-) nails.

  
  


Martin nodded, flicking a lighter and in his other hand he held a matchbook, “Agreed, I’m setting this place ablaze as soon as we get out.”

  
  


“You better get started with that fire then Marto.” Tim says, before swinging the axe into the wall, drywall and wood breaking easily under years of pent up rage, “And start it by the door.”

  
  


Jon watched as the assistants (his people came for him, he knew they would-) worked in a well oiled tandem, it was strange and warming to see them working together so well. Sasha was poised by the door, ready to shoot the arrows, and Martin was flicking matches and throwing them onto the old wood, the smell of smoke slowly starting to rise. The banging on the door got worse, but Tim had finally gotten a good hole in the wall, which lead to a hallway instead of outside, but they could work with that. 

  
  


“Cutest goes first!” Tim yelled, and starting pushing Jon through, and gesturing for Sasha and Martin to come through. Martin shakes his head, pushing Tim through first, and throwing down another lit match as they start running through the hall. Jon’s legs feel a bit weak, until Sasha scoops him up and starts running with him. When did all of his friends get so strong? He would never know. All he knows right now is that they are getting out of there-

  
  
  


“Tsk tsk! You are such a mangy group, I’ll just have to get rid of you.” Nikola’s voice called, and she was in front of them. Jon growled softly, and he was in front of his people, staring down Nikola. She was towering, much taller than them, and Jon almost stopped breathing. How strange, the room went quiet, Nikola's laughing starting to come through, "You can't do anything, Little Archivist, and neither can you three. You think you can just break in and burn the place down! You're very silly, and very annoying."

  
  


“What are you scared of Nikola?” Jon asked, his voice just like that day with Daisy.

  
  


Her face, if it were made of skin, would have blanched, but she tried not to answer, and kept trying not to answer as words spilled out of her mouth, cheery as could be, until Tim swung. The mannequins head rolled on the ground, and they all stood there, shocked. That was... Easier than Tim thought it would be, but he still kicked her head down the hallway.

  
  
  


“We have to get out of here now.” Sasha insists with a hiss, and they listen, as she takes the lead, running through the maze of halls. As they made it out, the smell of smoke intensified, and they could see wax figures melting and mannequins on fire. There were sirens in the distance though, and they couldn’t stick around to make sure the place was withered to ash, so they got into the car, this time Tim drove, and Jon and Martin sat in the backseat. They were all exhausted. 

  
  


“Lets go home.” Tim says softly, and they agree silently, as they car ride dragged on, and Jon fell asleep. 

  
  


They would have to deal with Elias, and have to deal with what happened when Jon was gone, but they could do that later, right now they needed to rest. Jon wasn’t the only one who last sleep. The bags under the other three’s eyes were darker than they had been since Tim was in Uni, since Martin worked three jobs, since Sasha had pulled all nighters for online exams, since Jon hadn’t slept for days going down a research rabbit hole. 

  
  


When they got home, they had all crashed on Tim and Sasha’s bed, not feeling ok with being separated for the night, Jon was curled in the middle, and the newest installed security system in place, a chair under the doorknob, and a metal can in the windowsill, just in case the security was bypassed. They didn’t have to worry about Jon being kidnaped with the ringleader of the circus, they still felt a paranoia. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating in the morning like I usually do i was doing errands and cleaning today :p 
> 
> Love yall!!1


	32. Statements like Stones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :3c oh lore?
> 
> TW:
> 
> \- Mentions of trauma but thats kinda like canon  
> \- Bullying your besties as a treat

It had been a week, they had somehow taken a week away from the institute before they all started feeling sick. It started small, a little headache for everyone, then stomach aches, feeling like they were going to throw up, the nauseous feeling that came with not eating but being unable to keep anything down. Unpleasant. The aches and pains wouldn’t die down until they set course for the Magnus Institute.

  
  


Jon took a deep breath as he stepped into the Archives, and it was like a puzzle piece, not as loving kind as the feeling of his people, but something close. The dry and temperature controlled rooms were a comfort, he took off his hat and looked at his people. They looked better than they did at home, and he was glad about that. A small part of him felt guilty, about something he couldn’t name, but he idn’t want to get into that. 

  
  


They had talked about the circus, about how many buildings the three of them had burned down in their quest to find him. It had reminded him how much they cared, about the world, about him. Though, he knew that they had an arsonist streak in them. They talked about what was happening to them, in depth this time. He was worried about them, what if… what if he was changing them?

  
  


Either way, he couldn’t sit there and be coddled, he needed answers, an so he headbutted the three of them and went off into the stacks to find what he needed. 

  
  


The archives, slowly but surely was getting to be less of a mess. Martin didn’t know what to do so he started moving things out of the walkway’s, and then starting to rearrange the breakroom. None of them wanted to read statements, and Sasha sat on her laptop in the breakroom with her coffee. She was doing her own research. Tim was at his desk, searching for a good ebook to read, blacklisting the horror section. That was already too real for his taste. 

  
  


“Ew why is it recommending me Harry Potter.” He said aloud, and heard Sasha chime in with a quie noise of disgust. Martin snorted. 

  
  


In the stacks, Jon was sitting on the floor, his eyes scanning through papers, as he read them to the tape recorder, one after the other, like someone eating too many sweets. It was like he couldn’t stop, not until he found what he was looking for. He was searching for a diamond ring of information in the middle of the terror sea. Jon would have to swim until he found it, but the waves sure did like pulling him under. 

  
  


It had begun to overwhelm him, the few seconds between a statement and the few moments of lucidity until he was thrown back into. It was like getting salt in his eyes. He couldn’t stop seeing it-

  
  


“Jon?”

  
  


That was Martin, how long had Jon been down for? It feels like ages, “Martin?”

  
  


Sasha’s voice came through as well, “Christ Jon we’ve been looking for you for like thirty minutes.” 

  
  


Finally the two of them walked through to the little stretch of dark pathway that Jon had sat and started reading in. “Sorry- I… I think I. I don’t know.”

  
  


“It’s alright, we get it. Uh, did you find what you’re looking for?” Sasha said, sitting down next to him on the floor. Martin leans against the shelf, looking curious. 

  
  


“I- no. No I didn’t.” Jon said, voice frustrated he really hadn’t found anything at all. He could remember the statements he read, like that hazy moment when you’re woken up from a dream. He sighs, looking at the papers. 

  
  


Martin hummed, “What are you looking for exactly?”

  
  


He thought about it for a second, and he wasn’t really sure, “I thought I’d just know when I got to it?”

  
  


Sasha raises a brow and Jonn crosses his arms, “hey it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do-”

  
  


“Uhuh Mister-”

  
  


“Sasha!”

  
  


“Jon! Did you think you could find something with your gut-”

  
  


“ _ Maybe I did!”  _

  
  


“Hah! I knew it! That’s a terrible way to research-”

  
  


“I am going to give you rabies-”

  
  


“Oooooh so scary.”

  
  


Martin laughed, “You two knock it out, be nice!” He stops for a second, “Sasha you can’t bully our resident psychic-”

  
  


“You too! This is the worst betrayal I’ve ever-” 

  
  


Sasha laughs loudly, hitting her head on the shelf, then laughing even harder. Jon snorts, “That’s what you get for being mean. This shelf is my new friend-”

  
  


“Jon I’m going to start crying-” Her hands were covering her chest, having a blast of a time.

  
  


Martin gasped, “You chose the shelf over me! This thing could probably give you tetanus-”

  
  


“Don’t talk bad about my shelf.” Jon said, his slight grin was getting wider by the second, and Sasha wheezed. Tim’s head poked out from a corner. 

  
  


“Not having fun without me are you! Betrayal!” He said, walking over and sitting himself on the floor, “Why is Sasha dying?”

  
  


Jon rolled his eyes, before smiling slightly. Then he remembered why this was happening, and sighed, “I was looking for something, but I don’t quite know what I’m even looking for. Answers.”

  
  


Tim puts a hand on his shoulder, “I’m guessing you didn’t find it?”

  
  


“No, suppose I’ll just have to keep looking.” Jon said. 

  
  


Martin raised a brow at him, “Not until we all eat lunch, you’ve been at this for hours.”

  
  


He huffed and crossed his arms, putting on his best ‘I’m still your boss’ before realizing that might have worked when they first started the Archives, but Martin doesn’t get phazed at it. Damn, “Ok ok, I’m going.”

  
  


“S’what I thought.” Martin said, a tinge of smugness in his voice, Jon glared with the intensity of an ice cube. Tim laughed at him, and then gets up.

  
  


“What would we do without you, Mr. Self Care?” Tim says, holding his hands out for Sasha and Jon to help them get up. 

  
  


“My god my knees hurt, sitting on the floor sucks, how do you do it old man?” Sasha asks, and Jon rolls his eyes.

  
  


“I am in fact younger than you.” He said, brushing himself off, patting the dust away. And then shaking his head, how in the world did his hair get all messy?

  
  


Sasha stretched, “Up we go boys. I am so hungry, and I brought leftovers.”

  
  


Jon rolled his eyes and laughed, grabbing Martin’s hand on instinct, “I have twice reheated roast, a delicacy truly.”

  
  


“Bleh, how can you eat it without potatoes its despicable.” Tim says, pretending to gag.

  
  


“Carnivore.”

  
  


“Ok? Doesn’t man you have to have terrible taste buds.”

  
  


“I take great offense to that.” Jon said deadpan, when they reach the breakroom, his tail flicks. He grabs his leftovers from the fridge, and moved to snag the microwave first. After his food was heated, he watched as Sasha and Tim bickered over their utensils, and Martin sat down next to him. Jon ate, and then decided he could lean on Martin’s shoulder at work, because what was Elias going to do? Fire him?

  
  


Sasha stands up, putting her containers on the counter, “Alright someone come with me to Artifact Storage I need to look at something.”

  
  


“Gotcha.” Tim said, and Jon tapped Martin.

  
  


“I’ll come too.” Martin volunteers. She turns to Jon.

  
  


“You coming with?” They seem on edge with the idea of leaving him alone, but he shakes his head. 

  
  


“I’ll be alright, I need to find that thing.”

  
  


“Uhuh, the ‘I know it when I see it’ thing.”

  
  


He scoffed, “It’s not all like that-”

  
  


“Lalalala fine, you go on your spooky quest but if anything happens you better call us.” Tim says, patting Jon on the head. 

  
  


Jon nodded, “I will I will. Ill make sure if there are any dogs I’ll tell you.”

  
  


Sasha rolled her eyes, “Alright shut up, boys come with me!”

  
  


Martin looked over at him and Jon gave a thumbs up, he doesn’t want to be coddled like a child. He was ready if anything were to happen, thought he felt bad to let them go themselves, they were big kids. And so Jon went back into the stacks. The ceiling tall shelves should have made him uneasy, but his ears flicked, and he looked around, as if trying to sense something. 

  
  


He wondered how Daisy was doing, he had called and talked to her about the kidnapping, being called Problem man for his honesty. Though he knew she was jogging more often, running out the fever like energy that came with what was happening to both of them. Then he had called Georgie, and subsequently her youtuber girlfriend Melanie, and told her about the mess. She had said to not bring the spookiness back with him when he came over again.

  
  


Jon stopped dead in his tracks, he pulled a box from the bottom shelf, and he flicked through papers. 

  
  


“Statement of James Trench, regarding his wife’s encounter with a Leitner called ‘There are Many Ways To Catch a Mouse.’”

  
  


It was about the same book, they thought they had gotten all the statements regarding this leitner, there were 16, now 17. It spoke about Mr. and Mrs. Trench’s live changing. The Letiner had made his wife act like an animal, and it had begun to change him too. In the end he had spoken about how feral beauty could be, spoke about how he would. 

  
  


The leitner didn’t just affect Mrs. Trench.

  
  


It had changed everyone close to her as well.

  
  



	33. Researching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello,,,, Sorry again I am uploading late but i'm still updating daily and I am proud of that fact B)

Jon stared at the statement, at his hands, at the stacks. It seemed a lot bigger now that he stared at it longer. He was… he was problem. He was the thing that was changing his friends, he didn’t want them to end up like him! Jon could live with the stupid cat ears but his people didn’t sign up for being like this. (H _e didn’t sign up for it either, but he enjoyed it. He liked the life he led- shut up. He can’t bring people down with him._ )

  
  


So he writes down a note, and leave it along with the statement on a desk, easy to spot. 

  
  


Jon didn’t know what to do. He walked around London, running into people but still keeping his anonymity. (It _hurt to be away from his people, it hurt to be away from home, away from the Archives_.) Though, Jon tried not to dwell on those thoughts though, he had no clue what he was doing. Good Lord he can;t keep running from his issues. He needed to talk to someone about this but he didn’t want to- god ok. 

  
  


Following a winding path, he found himself in a small dense of trees, and climbed one. He needed a place to think, needed a place to be alone that wasn't his office.

  
  


\---------

  
  


Sasha looked at the note, and then her head fell onto the desk. Christs sake he can’t run away again!

  
  


“He thinks we wouldn’t choose to stay if we were changing because of him. Idiot.” Tim says, groaning, “I am tired of his mopey woes me I’m a monster. That silly dumbass, I swear he has one brain cell that’s struggling to function the whole factory.” 

  
  


“I am going to kick some common sense into him I swear.” Martin muttered, looking both worried and annoyedly fond. The three of them gathered their things up, and left the building, going to go looking for him again. He was a drama queen, Sasha thought lightheartedly. They weren’t worried really, they needed to let him know that running away will not solve him problems. That they are here for him, that he isn't the reason for every bad thing that ever happens. 

  
  


\--------

  
  
  


“Jon!” Tim called, cupping his hands over his mouth, “You silly cat we’re looking for you!”

  
  


Martin held a thermos of tea, because Jon had left his coat when he had gone on his journey. They had zero clues as to where he was, other then the fact that they could vaguely smell his tracks, more explicitly Sasha could smell the tracks. Tim called his name even louder, and the few people that were near them had begun to edge away. Did they really look intimidating?

  
  


Sasha groaned, “Jon! You can quit the pity party!”

  
  


Jon, hidden from the other’s view was not even paying attention to anything, barely recognising the fact that his name was being yelled. He was still trying to understand everything. Not even a second passes, and his ears perk up, and he notices his people are walking right under the tree he is in. He let out a breath, before Martin’s head snapped up. 

  
  


“Jesus _christ_! Jon!” Martin’s hand came up to his heart, “God- I almost had a heart attack.”

  
  


“Get down from there before I climb that tree myself.” Tim said, already hauling himself up expertly, sitting on the branch next to Jon. “Hey there asshole.”

  
  


“Hello Tim.” Jon said, not meeting any of the other three’s eyes. 

  
  


Sasha grabbed a branch, tried to haul herself up, and then landed on her rear end after the branch broke, Martin was holding back laughter as he helped her up. She glared up at the three of them.

  
  


“That’s our cue to get down. She might take down the whole tree if we dont.” Tim said hoping down up off the tree, Jon still didn’t look at them. Jon followed, and stood there. Sasha came over and hugged him, before giving him a noogie, ruffling his hair. 

  
  


“Hey-!” Jon said, which was cut off my Sasha.

  
  


“Idiot! You’re lucky I love you or I would throw you right now.” She said, her voice stern even though she wasn’t truly mad. Annoyed yes, not mad. 

  
  


Martin was next, crossing his arms, “Alright drama queen we’re going to talk about this. If you keep running off we’re gonna get a missing poster just to put up every time you have a mope.”

  
  


Jon looked at them, confused, “But… the- the statement.”

  
  


“-Is absolutely ass.” Tim said matter of factly, , “We burned to book, so the effects aren’t from it anymore. Jon, think about it. That dude only changed because the book kept on doing it’s thing.”

  
  


“There’s a different explanation for what’s happening. Lets go talk about it at home, because it’s about to rain.” True to Martin’s words, the sky looked overcast, angry grey storm clouds already forming. Jon nodded and followed them to the car, getting in the back next to Tim who took the chance to bully him for being dramatic. With a few glares, Jon finally relented, and allowed himself to get called dram-cat-ic, which was the worst pun Jon had ever heard. 

  
  


When they got home, Jon was ordered to sit at the table, and the others sat with him. 

  
  


First order of business, “Jon stop running away from your issues. It wont help anything.”

  
  


Jon flinched and nodded, “I just… I don’t want to drag you all with me. Through my bad decisions.”

  
  


“You didn’t chose this. Neither did we, you’re as much of a trapped victim as we all are.” Tim says, and Jon headbuts his hand. Martin took Jon’s hand in his, and Jon relents that maybe..

  
  


“Ok. No more running away.”

  
  


“Perfect good. Next order of business, Sasha was doing her own research, and she found something about entities.” Martin says, looking at the folder Sasha had brought home.

  
  


Sasha takes over from there, “So obviously the book has no more hold over us, seeing as the ashes of it are on Jon’s desk. This means that there is something else at the heart of this, and these entities are really close to what we thought Elias served. The Eye, or the beholding, is the god of watching. I think we all serve that one in little ways, such as working at the institute.”

  
  


She takes a breath, “I also think the other entities have a play in our lives, the other most notable one being the Hunt. That’s the one I think and you and Daisy serve most, even if on accident.”

  
  


Jon looked at the table she had made, and was both impressed, and slowly growing more worried. Tim looked at her, and then back at the other two, “She has a powerpoint and everything.”

  
  


“Timothy Elizabeth Stoker I will kick your ass.” Sasha said, but scratched the back of her neck, “Yeah I do.”

  
  


With a laugh, Jon gestured for her to go on.

  
  


“I also think that we, by extension, started to be influenced by the hunt, especially during the kidnapping because we spent all the three days chasing and searching, which ‘hunting’ is a synonym of those. I think Tim was briefly influenced by the Slaughter, and then Martin by the Web and Desolation. I think I was influenced by the Hunt and the eye most, like you, though not to whatever extent happened because of the leitner. I also think the workplace we live with is the reason these entities are so prevalent in our life.”

  
  


Martin nodded, “I feel like you’ve written a whole thesis about this already.”

  
  


Sasha flipped him off and Martin put his hands up, trying to look innocent and failing. Jon was… astounded. This was... A lot better than the idea that he was a monster and was dragging them down with him. But on the other hand… they had no control over this happening to them did they?

  
  


Tim looked at it, he had known a bit more than Martin and Jon, and then sighed, “But it can’t be all bad. We can use this as an advantage.”

  
  


“And we can’t leave the institute. The best thing we can do is to use these… entities against themselves.” martin says thinking about it, “If we can use one against Elias, then I think we’ll be ok. I mean. If we aren’t just connected to him, but the eye, maybe if we tried to lean away it could work to sever our connection to him.”

  
  


“Wait. Martin you’re onto something.” Jon says, and he is scrambling to grab the nearest pen and paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to everyone who comments, you guys are literally the lifeblood of this fanfic actually. I don't know what I'd do without yall schemeing there 
> 
> big hugs for everyone (or air hugs if you'd prefer)
> 
> <3


	34. The Hunt Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well. A plan doesn't always go perfectly, but that doesn't mean the plan fails
> 
> TWS:
> 
> \- Murder.  
> \- Elias typical trauma telepathy  
> \- A bit violent kids

It’s not every day that you plan a murder. Certainly not a normal occurrence, until one starts working in an archive, Jon thinks. They all got to work for the day, all wearing normal clothes and they go about the day as normal. It’s a normal day, after the night before being full of what-ifs and murder plots and wondering if the risk was worth the reward. 

  
  


Still they come into work, and Jon goes to record statements simply to do his job, for the first time in a long while. Since before the confusion. The Assistants were filing and following up, sending unfinished papers from the last five years back up to Research, and taking the ones already recorded to tape and digital that were older than that to their new correct places. 

  
  


Jon almost felt content like that, reading and filing and continuing his routine, he forgot how much he enjoyed routine. He liked routine. Then five o’clock came, and instead of going home, Jon stayed behind in his office; the other three ‘went to the car.’ 

  
  


Elias had been wanting to talk to his Archivist, now marked by the Hunt, Eye, Corruption, Web, Flesh, and Stranger. There was a wisp of the lonely, not deep enough to cut into his soul, to bring about soft gentle terror that was on par for the lonely, but it clung easily to him like a parasite. Elias could see all these marks in color, a strange synesthesia of fear. 

  
  


As soon as the door opens to the Archives, Jon taps the call button, and leave his phone laying face down. The other three were on mute, and were going to listen until the time was ready to come in. It’s bait. Jon was being bait, no matter how heavily the idea had been protested, even by his own internal thoughts. He’s sitting in his office, and starts talking about a statement into a tape recorder. Doing his job. Jon can do that.

  
  


It takes a few minutes, and Jon almost gives up with his act, but he keeps with it. He’s almost sucked into a statement, when the door opens.

  
  


“Statement Begins- Elias?” Jon raises a brow, as if he had not known Elias would come in, as if he would normally stay behind from his people, he cared so much about his job after all. That had been Elias picked though hadn’t it? Because he was a workaholic, curious, too stupid and self isolating for his own good. 

  
  


The other man does, in his favor, look surprised, “Hm. I thought you would be going home with the assistants. Seeing as you never stay behind late.”

  
  


Jon hums, going to push his glasses before remembering he doesn’t need those anymore. He wondered if that as because of the Eye or the Hunt that Sasha had said held sway over their lives, “It’s a mess at the moment, and I thought to start catching up after being, as you know, kidnapped.”

  
  


He couldn’t help that snappish remark, but Elias simply smiled, “Good. Good. I’m glad you’re finally taking your job seriously. And how are you doing?”

  
  


“The archives s going well. Things are getting in place, and we are starting to cross-reference some to check the validity.” He said easily, as if he cared to report. His territory was his won, and he was already getting a bit snappish with Elias in it.

  
  


“That’s not what I meant.” Jon knew that, even before the words left Elias’s lips. He knew Elias wanted to know how he was ‘feeling’ after the kidnapping. He wondered if he could swat at the man, claw out his eyes. Well. That was what was planned. 

  
  


Jon cleared his throat, “Ah I’m doing. Perfectly. Well.” 

  
  


“Really, you don’t seem it.” Elias responded, and Jon tapped three times on the desk, the signal for the others to get in there soon. Jon’s tail flicks, and his eyes follow Elias as his hand goes to the doorknob. 

  
  


He suddenly feels cold, “Why are locking the door?”

  
  


The other man gave an annoyed scoff, laughing slightly, “You think I didn’t know about this little plan of yours Jon? You think I’m that stupid?”

  
  


Jon freezes, he does not do well when plans go awry, “I. I don’t know-”

  
  


“Cut it with the lies Jon. I knew. You little friends should be here any minute now, they’re on the phone with you right now. And they should be here.” There's a slam on the door, and Elias grins, “There they are. You have to try harder to kill me. I am not a simpleton, nor am I an idiot. I mean, really. This was a terrible plan, and I know that you and Tim thought of it. Not as subtle as you thought.”

  
  


Jon bristles now, and he stands up, “Why ae you doing this?” His voice layered with static and something else. That same bloodlust that rushed through him in the middle of the night, that woke him up.

  
  


Elias laughed, letting out a little breath, like this had been the funniest thing he had heard in a while, like he needed to laugh before he said anything, “That won’t work. Was… Tingley though, lot stronger than I thought you’d be. Before you try and claw me I want you to know something.”

  
  


He is stopped in his tracks, stuck in midmotion, and he hears Martin and Tim and Sasha’s voice coming through the phone, they are yelling for him. Elias looks over at his phone on the desk, takes three steps, and ends the call. The voices on the other side of the door are loud, but Jon can’t find it in himself to think about that because Elias was grinning at him. 

  
  


“Now, I see that you’re acting out, but there is no reason to. I thought you always wanted authority to recognize you, you want to be in charge and powerful, but you can’t have that. Archivist you are nothing. No one thinks you are strong Jon, they find you cute, like a pet. Like a cat. You aren't human anymore, you're a monster, just. Like. Me. Archivist you are not good for anything like you think you are. I could go on about your grandmother not wanting you, your friend not wanting you until you had use, you not being lovable or seeing yourself worthy of love until you became more… agreeable. 

The truth is Jon. No one wants you.”

  
  


Jon’s hands are shaking, and he looks at the ground, his face still frozen in something unpleasant. Elias leaned down slightly, “You think you deserved to kidnapped, and you weren’t wrong.”

  
  


He scrambled back, his hip hitting the side of the desk, “Stop- _stop that._ You-”

  
  


Elias hummed, then looked at his watch as if he had other thinks to attend to, other than hurting his employees, “I didn’t want to do this Jon, you understand. I just can’t have employees doing whatever they please, do you get that Archivist?”

  
  


Jon’s shaking form nodded only slightly, tears were forming in his eyes. He could feel everyone’s anger, could feel how others felt about him, shoved into his mind like an electric shock. Elias saying Archivist felt different than how his people said it, and it made him palpably disgusted.

  
  


“Good. I guess we are done here then.” Elias smiled, and fixed his collar, as if he hadn’t just rehashed Jon’s trauma. He turned, or at least he went to, before nails slashed down his face. Jon’s eyes were a golden fire.

  
  


“I am not unlovable.” He gritted out, even thought the feeling of inadequacy was like a jolt to his brain. Elias steps back, but Jon didn’t give up. He imagined the plan going smoother but they hadn’t realized he could just press a button and send them telepathic fear. The sudden haze of fear overtook the room, and Jon finally felt right. He unlocked the door, and Elias swerved out of the way of the others. Jon pursued him, an he could tell the Assistants were following as well. Invigorated by the man having to dodge stacks of boxes, and this that the four of them dodged around like second nature, and it almost was. The hunt began and ended in the same minute.

  
  


Elias didn’t make it to the Archive’s stairs, before there was a yank on the back of his blazer, and well… The archives plan did work, very well in fact.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Catboy jon is coming to an end, this doesn't mean that the supplementals wont be updated! That will stay ongoing, and there will be an epiloge to this promise!
> 
> A special thank you to all of the readers, and all of you who have commented, you are he reason this fic got this far, and I am incredibly happy that I got to interact with you guys. Again, ending a big fanfic like this is always bittersweet, but I am happy that this had been a journey. 
> 
> And I hope my future works catch your eyes as well. Love you all, and again, thank you for joining me. 
> 
> Suppose I should say statement ends ;)


	35. Supplemental

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK FOLKS HERE IT IS. The real ending of Mainecoon Grey, I hope this epilogue helped draw the stories last strings together, an answered some questions and theories. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading, and I can't wait to write some more. 
> 
> I'll see you all later, and wish you a wonderful day.

Elias Bouchard had gone missing a few months ago, and people have finally gotten over it. Rosie, you know, Rosie Zampano the secretary, went on be the head of the Institute. The newest secretary greeted the archives staff, as only the secretary did. The Institute still had an upspoken ‘leave the archives alone if you want to live’ policy, and they lived by that. 

  
  


Sasha had waved to Rosie, as had Tim, and Martin, even Jon. They went down to the archives, and first went to have tea in the breakroom. Jon took off his hat, moving stray hairs out of his face while Martin went about making tea. Tim and Sasha sat down next to each other at the break room table. 

  
  


“So. I was thinking tonight we get takeout as a treat.” Tim said, “Also I really don’t want to cook and it’s my night tonight.”

  
  


Martin snorted and rolled his eyes, hands preoccupied, “Sure.”

  
  


“Thanks Martini glass.” Tim says, taking his cup of tea as it was being finished. 

  
  


Sasha laughed, taking her cup as well, blowing a kiss as thanks to Martin, “You’ve done this twice this month, Mr. Lives likes a College Student.”

  
  


“That is a very rude accusation! I live a lot better than a college student, for one, I have a job that has stable pay and a girlfriend, and friends, college Tim couldn’t imagine.”

  
  


“You say that like college Tim wasn’t a-” Sasha says, before Tim puts a hand over her mouth. 

  
  


“No more mean words Sash, I can’t handle this slander any longer.” He said, and Martin hid his laugh with his cup. Jon watched them with a small smile. He takes a sip of his tea, sitting down next to Martin, who holds his hand as easy as possible, as if it was simply second nature. It had been months into their relationship now, and it was nice. He hummed, finishing his drink, and looking at them again. 

  
  


“Alright jokesters, I will be in my office, we have a new shipment of statements to file through that went cold this year.” He said giving a false cheer, rolling his eyes at the end. Even though they all liked getting new statements, it made them feel less hungry. 

  
  


Tim groaned, but he was excited, he liked when follow-up meant chasing down fear monsters and wrecking their shit, “Another one!”

  
  


Sasha hummed, “Gotcha. You checking over them to see how many don't have proper follow-up?”

  
  


“Yes I will, would you like to have those Sasha?” Jon said, and she nodded, “Tim I assume you and Sasha will deal with field work today?”

  
  


“Gotcha Mr. Boss.” Tim said with a grin, “It’s been a while since I stretched my legs.”

  
  


“That is a lie you went for a jog with me and Daisy literally yesterday.” Jon said deadpan, but does laugh slightly after seeing Tim stick his tongue out. 

  
  


“Yeah yeah. Go off and do your Archivist thing.” Tim says, elbowing Jon softly. Jon headbutts him on the shoulder, doing the same to Sasha. 

  
  


“Martin ae you going to want to follow them out?” He said, leaning in slightly closer to said man. 

  
  


“Nah. I’ll stay here and help you move files.” 

  
  


Jon smiled slightly, before clearing his throat, trying to seem even a small bit professional, “Yes. Yes ok. Thank you.”

  
  


Martin hummed, “Yes yes, now you go puke your horrors.” 

  
  


Jon scoffed, but didn’t stop Martin from kissing his forehead, he pretended not to pout, “Rude.”

  
  
  


\--------

  
  


Jon looked over in the reflection of his face in the laptop, and he vividly Remembered something. A dream. Months ago while he was in the stacks he had a dream. It slowly came back to him now…. Like a slow trickle of a stream. He never did believe in prophetic dreams, or even what divination people got into, like Sasha with her tarot cards but…. This felt like Deja vu. 

  
  


His hair was in intricate braids, because Tim wanted to try his hand at braiding since he wanted to do Sasha’s hair and it turned out nice. Jon could see the rings on his hands, his ace ring, and a ring from each of his friends, a thin band of gold from Tim, ‘to match the aesthetic’ he had said. A gold rind with a moon carved out in the middle from Sasha, and a gold band with emerald on it from Martin. 

  
  


His claws were grown out and sharp, and he touched the bracelets on his arms, he had decided to bring more jewelry into his daily clothes because he thought they looked, and he used to do so in uni, and well, Martin said he looked dashing. A locket dangled from his throat, inside a picture of all of them together. 

  
  


Jon thinks he sees the flutter of eyes that aren’t there on his face, and thinks he doesn’t mind. Sometimes Sasha would open and eye that wasn’t there, and sometimes Tim’s eyes flickered with red, and sometimes Martin’s eyes were a bit more black than blue. He found it didn’t scare him anymore. He wasn’t a monster.

  
  


The scars from months ago still stare back at him as well, but he also finds that the scars didn’t define him, they were just stories, and that’s what the Archivist deals in. 

  
  


His eaers flick, and Jon smiles. It wasn;t his appearance that brought the memory of a dream back full force, like a statement on it’s own in it entirety. It was the proud look on his face, the warm content and loved look that seemed to wear down whatever age lines he had. Jon didn’t look young, but he almost felt it. 

  
  


“Knock knock!” Martin said opening the door, a habit he had picked up from Tim, bargain into rooms, thought Jon didn’t really mind. It was endearing. 

  
  


“Yes?” Jon said looking away from his laptop, the black scream coming to life finally, “Do you need anything?”

  
  


Martin hummed, “Just came to check on you, you’ve been quiet for a bit.” 

  
  


He leaned on the desk next to Jon, and Jon looks up at him, “No. I’m just… Just remembering something. Nothing to worry about.”

  
  


“Oh do tell all seeing cat.” Jon playfully batted at him, and Martin smiled. 

  
  


“Just a dream.” Jon said, and Martin took that for an answer. Thankfully, because Jon didn’t know how to say he got called King of the Archives in his dreams. Instead he just headbutted martin, “I love you.”

  
  


“I love you too. So.”

  
  


Jon looks at Martin, “No we are not getting a tarantula.”

  
  


“Worth a shot.” Martin said, and this was a well loved argument. Jon would refuse the tarantula, and Martin would ask for one. Jon wasn’t as scared of spiders living with Martin, but he still would vehemently deny the request. Martin did more now because it was funny than actually wanting a pet. 

  
  


They laughed for a second, and Martin pets his head, “Alright I’m off to do files, Sasha and Tim have a follow-up statement?”

  
  


“Oh yes actually. Could you?” Jon holds out a file and Martin takes it. 

  
  


“Yeah of course. When they get back are we taking lunch?” Martin asked, and Jon had to think about it. 

  
  


“Sounds good, are you going to get that book from Diane in the library?”

  
  


Martin nodded, tapping his free hand’s nails against the desk rhythmically, “That one, and then we are sending for a Leitner from Artifact Storage?”

  
  


“The very one, are you up for a bit of book burning?” Jon asked, and the Eye was annoyed at his destruction of knowledge, but Jon had enough statements about the book to ease his curiosity. 

  
  


“Am I ever not?” Martin asks, and then leans over, kissing Jon on the forehead again, “I’m off.”

  
  


“Say hello to Rosie for me if you see her.” Jon calls, as Martin leaves the office, the door cracked slightly.

  
  


The muffled answer of, “I will, promise!” made him calm, and then he look at the files ahead of him, and he took out the tape recorder. 

  
  


“Statement ends.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you see me saying something that seems rude/derogatory please let me know! I'd like to keep this story friendly, and I would like to keep myself educated on issues and words that I shouldn't use!!! 
> 
> Much love :3


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